


I hope you decide to come back home

by hopelessly_me



Category: Marvel
Genre: Angst, Assumed Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Deaf Clint Barton, Happy Ending, M/M, Married Couple, Mild Language, Mission Gone Wrong, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Nightmares, Patient Bucky, Regaining Memories, Upset Bucky, Upset Clint, brief mention of child abuse chapter 11, fluff towards the end, hesitant Clint, nervous Bucky, sad bucky, winter soldier clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 59,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/pseuds/hopelessly_me
Summary: Bucky thought he had lost Clint forever, only to watch a grainy video of him surface two years after his disappearance. Now Bucky has to navigate the hard roads of trying to pull Clint back after everything HYDRA has done to him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 277
Kudos: 240





	1. Chapter 1

Bucky watched with nervous energy as the team inspected their equipment, preparing to deboard and hike to their target. It didn’t seem to matter how many times he had done this, going on missions always left Bucky a little on the nervous side. So much could go wrong, and now more than ever he had some much more he could use. Back in the day, he could lose his siblings, his mom, Steve. Now he had this family, these new faces that replaced the old; the people that rescued him when he was at his absolute lowest and helped build him back up.

Most of all, he could lose Clint. Bucky watched as his husband checked over his stock of arrow tips, sliding them into place in his custom quivers. He was smiling brightly, cracking the same silly, quirky jokes he always made before missions- Bucky could only assume it made him feel better even though missions rarely seemed to make Clint flinch anymore. He slung the first quiver onto his back and grabbed a second one before he looked at Bucky.

He had woken up early that morning, which wasn’t normal Clint behavior. He had cuddled in close, planting kisses from the nape of Bucky’s neck down to his shoulder, his hand brushing down his side and to his hip. Bucky never thought he’d wake up to that kind of softness, normally it was flipped, and he had been in all sorts of bliss. Bucky wished he hadn’t planned this mission because there was nothing more he wanted to do than to stay in the moment for as long as it could last.

“It’s going to be okay,” Clint assured him, drawing Bucky out of the early morning memory. He was walking over, his thumb carefully strumming at the string of his bow.

“I’m fine.”

“You look nervous, you are grazing on your lip,” Clint pointed out, holding his bow out to Bucky. Bucky took it without a second thought and observed Clint attaching the last quiver into place on his hip before he stretched. “Standard mission, babe. We infiltrate the base, take the bad guys out, and make it go boom. We extract whatever reports we can, and hope like hell it gives us more intel on other terrorists groups. We go home, eat and get drunk, and call it a night.”

“You get drunk,” Bucky corrected with a hint of a smile.

“Mhhh, right. Lucky me,” Clint answered, taking his bow back. “Lucky _you_ might get lucky.” He bent forward and kissed Bucky and Bucky placed a hand on the back of Clint’s neck to keep him in place for just a moment longer. “Happy anniversary, babe,” he whispered against Bucky’s lips.

“Luckiest guy in the world,” Bucky whispered back. “Your hearing aids are fully charged, right?”

“Don’t,” Clint said firmly.

“Clint-”

“You know better,” Clint replied, reaching back and holding Bucky’s hand. Bucky knew it was an awkward position for Clint to be in, but he wasn’t making any complaints yet. “I checked all my equipment three times over. This isn’t my first mission. Everything will be fine.” 

Clint hated when Bucky tried to mother hen him, even if he was talking so gently to avoid making Bucky upset. But it didn’t matter how much training Clint had, how many missions he ran, or how competent Bucky knew he was- Bucky was _always_ going to worry about Clint. It was one of the only things in their relationship that they argued about, if you wanted to call it that. It was more like a gentle scolding from Clint, that sometimes became heated if Bucky pressed, that he was fully capable of checking his own things over and living through a mission without having to be reminded to check for the simple things he did every day to begin with. The other main argument was Clint’s lack of a proper diet and his obscene amount of caffeine consumption.

“Buck.” Bucky looked up and smiled a little. “It’s going to be fine. You’ll see.” Clint kissed his forehead, lingering there for a few moments before he straightened. “You need to stretch, old man,” he taunted.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled, standing when Clint moved back. “Alright. You are right.”

He walked around but his mind got lost in the nerves again. Steve gave him a solemn nod- at least Steve understood why Bucky always got anxious before going in, and sometimes Bucky wondered if Steve got just as nervous, he was just better at hiding it.

“Alright- let's do this,” Tony said confidently, his suit snapping into place. “Remember- remote detonation. I’ll call the signal.”

Bucky watched Natasha and Clint as they whispered to each other, followed closely by a hug. There was a time where Bucky envied Natasha- her and Clint were always so close, always sharing inside jokes. It used to make Bucky feel insecure that there were some things that Clint only talked to Natasha about, and while they were becoming fewer and farther in between, sometimes Bucky still wondered what pieces of Clint he was hiding still from Bucky.

“I’ll drop you at the location,” Tony told Clint.

“You just want an excuse to feel me up,” Clint teased, that smile not fading as he walked closer to Bucky. “I’ll make sure I can patch you guys through. It’ll be easy.” He grabbed onto the front of Bucky’s outfit and leaned down to kiss him.

“Kiss later, time to go,” Natasha said firmly.

“Why did we invite everyone again?” Clint asked Bucky with a devilish grin. “Next anniversary- just us.”

“Agreed,” Bucky muttered. “Stay safe.”

“Mhhh- you know it,” Clint said, kissing the tip of his nose before jogging to Tony, smacking the backside of the suit. “Alright Tin Can Man, let’s do this thing! Got a new arrowhead I have been dying to try out.”

Bucky watched Tony take off with Clint and the feeling in his stomach only got worse. He knew Clint was going to be okay, he knew Clint was more than qualified to run these types of missions- he had done them a hundred times over and would probably brag about how he could do them blindfolded. But Bucky knew that feeling wasn’t going to leave his stomach until they were safely back on board the jet and on their way back home. He looked at Steve then nodded and the rest of the team made their way to the base.

“ _Clint is working on entrance B, I am working on A,”_ Tony reported on.

 _“You mean worked. Entrance B is open and ready,”_ Clint bragged. “ _Get on my level.”_

“ _I hate when you get cocky- it’s not a good look on you_ ,” Tony sighed over the comms.

“Focus,” Steve reminded them. “Clint- what do you see?”

“ _Nothing out of the ordinary- same mission as always,”_ Clint reported back. “ _Disabling alarms-_ ” Bucky felt his heart squeeze when a noise came over the comms, sounding a hell of a lot like an alarm. “ _... alright, so, we lost the element of surprise.”_

“What happened?” Natasha asked.

“ _That was me,”_ Tony said. “ _You good, Barton?”_

“ _Yeah yeah, just in Nazi kicking paradise,”_ Clint answered.

“Clint,” Bucky warned.

“ _I am kidding, I am going stealth until I get to high ground. Sneaky time_ ,” Clint informed them before his comm went quiet.

“Guess this will be more of a fight than we thought,” Steve sighed.

It was almost like getting into the zone. As soon as team B, Steve, Bucky, and Natasha, got to the base, it was an all-out attack. It was easy to slip back into the mindset needed to push through the base, cover Natasha so she could start extracting the data they were looking for, which was everything they could get their hands on. Bucky was barely paying attention to the chatter over the comms as he kept an eye out, disabling anyone who came their way.

The problem was- it almost all seemed too easy. There were minimal people on the base, less than expected, and they pushed through too quickly. And as Clint muttered over the comms _If it looks like a trap, and if it feels like a trap- it’s going to be a goddamn trap._ Bucky just hoped he was wrong, but Clint rarely was in these cases. He hoped they could all at least be back with support teams before the trap was sprung.

“ _Ambush, ambush,_ ” Clint radioed through and Bucky froze in his spot. He looked over at Natasha who seemed to hesitate as well. “ _Southwest side of the building, going to need to hurry this along, guys. They have helicopters and, well, lots of shit._ ”

“ _I’m coming to you for backup,”_ Tony said and Bucky felt he could breathe a little easier.

“We are done and heading out,” Natasha said, grabbing the thumb drive and tucking it away. Bucky nodded and went with her.

“ _Can’t find bird brain,_ ” Tony reported.

“ _I had to drop back, too much heat_ ,” Clint said, sounding a little quieter, a little more out of breath.

“Make it to the jet,” Steve said, catching up with Bucky and Natasha.

“ _Negative, Captain. I can’t lead them back there and hold,”_ Clint said. Bucky faltered in his stride and looked at Steve before he looked at Natasha.

“Extraction plan?” Natasha asked carefully.

“ _Uh-”_ Bucky didn’t like the tone of Clint’s voice, the flux from confidence to uncertainty. “ _Extraction plan C. I’ll go with C. I will make my way, I will call for S.H.I.E.L.D. support. I’ve got enough cover._ ”

“Clint,” Natasha warned.

“ _I’m fine- I’ve got this,_ ” Clint said, though there was still an edge there that made Bucky want to run to find him.

As soon as they were in the open, Bucky understood why Clint chose to fall back. It was a nightmare, and so far it only had Tony handling it. From the looks of it, Clint at least took down a few of the helicopters himself, the tell-tale signs of his explosive arrows scorched along the engines. Bucky tried not to focus on how that reminded him of the war, the scenes he saw before his fall from the train. He had to remind himself to focus on the task at hand, which was to take down the HYDRA base.

It took longer than it should have, and by the time they had reached the jet, they didn’t need to use the remote detonations- the base had already been on fire, causing the chain reaction by whatever happened. Bucky watched as Natasha quickly made her way to the front to pilot, not taking a moment’s rest. Tony was out of his suit as soon as the doors were up, sweat drenching his shirt as it clung to his body. Steve just set his shield down and ran his hands through his hair.

“Natasha- how long before we are in contact with Barton?” Steve asked, his tone even and unconcerned.

“Should hear from him in an hour, maybe two depending how much double backing he thought he’d need,” Natasha answered. “I’ll keep that line open to open broadcast. I am turning off most other lines of communication.”

“Why?” Steve asked.

“In case they intercept and track his movement,” Tony guessed. Natasha was silent. “I need to finish the upgrades in here for us. Better scramblers- top of my list when we get back.”

Bucky could only sit down. He didn’t like feeling like he left Clint behind, even if the archer said he was taking a different extraction approach. He also wasn’t fond of the idea that Natasha and Clint had pre-planned extractions in case the original didn’t work and they hadn’t told anyone about them; however, if it saved Clint and the team some hassle, kept Clint safe, he wasn’t going to complain about it.

Bucky didn’t know that the last words he would have heard from Clint were _I’m fine- I’ve got this._


	2. Chapter 2

_ “You know, babe,” Clint mumbled between kissing Bucky’s neck, his shoulder, a hand brushing along his side leaving goosebumps as he went, “when I said we should do something fun for our one year, I did not mean we should go blow up a HYDRA base.” Clint’s hand crept lower before he stopped, nibbling on Bucky’s ear. “I know you are awake, asshole.” _

_ Bucky didn’t want to move and ruin the moment- he wanted to savor this side of Clint for as long as he could. But he had just called him an asshole and there was no hiding how awake Bucky was, not from Clint. “Can’t a guy enjoy the moment without the other ruining it?” Bucky asked, a smile appearing quickly before he turned to lay on his back. “Mhhh, good morning, sunshine.” _

_ “Mhhh, good morning,” Clint greeted, kissing him nice and slow, moving carefully before he sat on top of Bucky’s hips. “Hello.” _

_ “Hi,” Bucky replied with a light laugh, reaching up and cupping Clint’s face. “Luckiest guy in the world. But how are you so awake?” _

_ Clint turned his head and Bucky’s eyes widened, watching in horror as blood dripped out from his badly burned ear. Clint kissed Bucky’s hand before he smirked. “Because today is the day I die, Bucky. Figured I should celebrate one last time.” Bucky jerked his hips, tried to knock Clint off but Clint’s hands came up, pressing Bucky’s shoulders down against the bed. “And it’s all because of you, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice sweet, though the smirk portrayed a different emotion on his face, an underlying rage. “You let me die, you left me to die. One our one year anniversary.” _

_ “No, Clint,” Bucky cried, trying to push again but feeling too weak to fight back as the feeling of despair started building in his chest. There was more blood, more scars, burns. _

_ “If you wanted me gone, Bucky, you should have just said so,” Clint said, leaning down, breathing against Bucky’s neck. “I would have done anything for you.” His calloused hands found their way to his neck and started to squeeze. “And here I thought that maybe this time, everything could be different.” _

Bucky kicked his blankets away, threw the pillows off the bed.  _ Can’t breathe _ was the only thought running through his head as he clawed at his neck, stumbling out of bed. He got to the bathroom, threw the lid open, and vomited. He slowly sank to his knees, resting his head on the toilet as he shook.

“ _ Sergeant Barnes, your heart rate is at an alarming pace,” _ the AI system announced over the intercom.  _ “Should I call Captain Rogers or perhaps Sir? _ ”

“No, no, please, I’m okay,” Bucky said weakly. “Just a nightmare. Don’t wake them.”

Bucky pulled the lid back down before he flushed the toilet, leaning back against the bathroom wall. He wanted to scream, to cry, to be angry- so many emotions were swirling through him but the only thing he could do was to try to control his breathing and heart rate before Tony’s infuriating AI system alerted the sleeping couple that Bucky was distressed.

Bucky could remember the days where his nightmares were plagued with what HYDRA had put him through, all the people, all the horrors. He remembered the way they tore him apart, threatening to throw him back into those dark moods where nothing seemed to be able to cheer him up. Sometimes he would have those dreams still, and while they hurt, it was nothing like his current level of hell.

For the last two years, his nightmares had shifted into something far more cruel than he was used to, and the down side was- he deserved them. He deserved every heartbreaking scene that played out in his head, every scream, every plea, every image. Because dream Clint was right- if Bucky hadn’t wanted to take down that HYDRA base, maybe Clint would still be here; Clint would still be tucked up in his bed, somehow cocooned in a blanket while some part of his body was firmly fixed against Bucky, trapping him in. Bucky would still be waking up every day to Clint, just the way he wanted to for so long.

Bucky nearly jumped when something rubbed against his leg and he looked down. He took a shaky breath before he reached out, petting Alpine as the cat weaved around him. Alpine jumped up on his lap before putting his front paws on Bucky’s chest, his head knocking against Bucky’s jaw.

“You only want food,” Bucky said softly, picking the white cat up before he forced himself up from the floor. He set Alpine on his shoulder as he shuffled his way out of the bathroom and into the living room, Alpine purring loudly in his ear. Once Bucky set new food out, however, the cat left him be. “See,” he sighed.

It was almost four in the morning and Bucky wasn’t sure what to do. He looked around the flat and had to swallow back all the built up emotions. In the last two years he had left the flat relatively unchanged. There were still photos of Clint scattered everywhere, his old bow hung up proudly, even if it were lopsided. Bucky knew in the spare closet Clint’s kits for arrow making were still severely disorganized, even though he knew where every little thing was to the T. In the one corner was still a box of toys for Lucky, even though he moved to Kate and America’s nine months ago, but Bucky couldn’t throw it away. He knew at some point he needed to clean house, try to organize things at least, but it seemed too daunting.

Nothing had been the same since Clint died. Bucky couldn’t find the motivation to keep pushing, keep trying, and was in a slump he couldn’t drag himself out of. And his relationship with everyone altered too, and he knew it was his fault; he should be with them more instead of in their flat,  _ his _ flat, but he hated the pitiful looks, the tiptoed comments. Bucky knew if he put the effort in, all of that would go away slowly, but he didn’t know how.

His relationship with Steve became strained again. Steve just wanted what was best for Bucky- slowly move on, at least show a sign of  _ something _ . But Steve didn’t understand what it was like, he still had Tony, they had Peter and Morgan. Bucky had Alpine- he had a cat, and it wasn’t the same. For what it was worth, Steve largely allowed Bucky to sit around and do whatever he pleased, but there were days where the love became a little tougher.

And then there was Natasha. Ever since Clint left, she was more distant with everyone. She was already a hard read, even with Clint around to drag her out of her self-imposed prison. Bucky always suspected Clint was one of the few who could remind her that sometimes redemption needs to take a back seat to everything else going on. Clint had offered the same to Bucky when they had first met- a different way of viewing all the bad in the world he had brought.

Bucky took a deep breath and put his hand in the handle before he opened the spare closet, turned the light on, and looked at the disorganized chaos that Clint had left behind. Bucky knew what some of it was- fletchings and things to make practice arrows with. He knew there were notebooks filled with data in all his trick arrows, even the ones that he was working on. Bucky would have to put those aside for Kate, she might actually enjoy them.

_ It’s alright- this is going to be healthy  _ Bucky tried to tell himself as he started to sort out what needed to go where and to whom.  _ Clint would want this- he would want things to get tidied up at some point.  _ At least Bucky was fairly sure Clint wouldn’t have wanted all of this to take as long as it had.

He stopped, his fingers twitching over a box marked “Barnes”, and he felt a lump forming in his throat as he tried to decide what to do. He pulled it out and walked to the sofa, sitting. Slowly, he opened the box and closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself. It was old letters, old knick knacks, things the two of them shared. There were cards, photos, things Clint must have kept hidden for whatever reasons he had. The thing that made Bucky have to walk away was a few pages that were neatly stuffed into an envelope marked  _ propose you idiot _ with his scratched off ideas before one was circled. He had  _ planned _ the proposal at least two dozen times, two dozen ways Clint had wanted to say he loved Bucky, before he found the perfect one.

It was too much. Bucky sank down into the couch and held his head and let his emotions ride because there was nothing else he could do. It tore him apart while also building him up. Clint was terrible at words, Bucky knew that going in. But these small keepsakes, that damn proposal list- it was those things slowly coming out that made Bucky swell with both love and sorrow.

“ _ Sergeant Barnes, Agent Romanoff is asking if she can enter, _ ” the A.I. system announced.

“Yeah- alright,” Bucky agreed, wiping his face off. He did a check around the apartment and winced at the mess he had created.

Natasha walked in a few minutes later and Bucky watched her, tried to figure out what she was thinking. Her eyes scanned the boxes before she looked up at him. “James,” she greeted.

“Natalia,” Bucky replied. Her eyes scanned his face before they landed on the box in front of him. “I’m… organizing,” he said hesitantly.

Natasha gave a small nod before she walked over. She sat down and touched the envelope with a soft smile. “It took the idiot three months to decide how he wanted to do it,” she offered, pulling her feet up. “He picked out the ring before he could figure this part out.”

“He got you involved then,” Bucky said slowly.

“He wondered if he was moving too fast,” Natasha said with a shrug before she sat it down and moved on. “And then he was insulted when I said he should just ask at family movie night because that apparently wasn’t special enough.”  _ Of course he involved Nat, you idiot  _ Bucky scolded himself. He rubbed his face then flinched when she got up. “I want to help. Clean up. Organize.”

“.... A.I. ratted me out, didn’t it?” Bucky asked. Natasha rose an eyebrow and didn’t bother to answer. She must have learned from Barton how he got the robots on his side, overriding protocols Tony had put in place. “Yeah, alright. I could use the help.” He got to his feet and walked over. “This is the Kate pile, this is the keep pile, donate pile, and the give it to Tony pile.”

They worked in near silence, the only time it being broken up was when Natasha was unsure where she would want something to go. It was easier, having someone there; and if Bucky cried, Natasha wasn’t saying anything about it. Steve would have stopped them, wanted to talk- Natasha at least understood it seemed.

Bucky caught her staring at something in her hands a little too long. “If there is something you want, you can obviously have it. No matter what pile,” he assured her.

Natasha turned and looked at him, her fingers holding a stuffed animal. “I got him this after I nearly killed him in Budapest,” she said. Bucky must have looked surprised, because her smile widened a little. “He never told you.”

“There were a lot of things he kept between just you both,” Bucky answered. Just as she pretended not to spot his tears, he was doing the same for her.

“He rescued me first- said I was worth a second chance if I wanted it,” she said. “But before we could leave, we got caught and he got-“ Bucky watched her stop herself, collect her thoughts. He knew the story was too close and raw for the both of them, Clint had told him as much, so it made sense that Natasha wasn’t able to talk about it. “I owed him a debt. He risked a lot to pull me up and out. It was never anything I could repay.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted you to,” Bucky said.

Natasha’s laugh was a little too loud, a little too pained. “I know.” She sat the stuffed animal dog down in its own pile before she took a deep breath. “He hated keeping secrets from you- he was never good at it. You were his world.”

“You were too,” Bucky pointed out.

“In a way,” Natasha agreed. “And would you look at that? The closet is cleaned out.”

Bucky startled and he looked inside, at all the floor space before he looked back out. “... hoarder,” he muttered. Natasha laughed and shook her head. “I’ll grab boxes and ship the non-exploding things to Kate I suppose. I should call her… it’s been awhile.”

Natasha rose an eyebrow. “You realize she is coming to town, right?” she asked. “Avengers meeting in two days. Kate has to come out because she heads up the West Coast Avengers division.” Bucky couldn’t remember being told any of this information before. “James,” Natasha said, and the tone she used Bucky knew she typically had on reserve for Clint when he was being particularly oblivious. 

_ “Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers and Sir are asking if they can come up, they are bringing breakfast _ ,” the AI said.

“Yeah, sure, let’s just let the whole fucking roster on my floor,” Bucky said and even he was surprised by the amusement behind his tone. Natasha tilted her head, a small, barely there smile on her face. That was a look Bucky had missed, which was another surprise to add to his day.

“Rogers is going to go full on confused when he sees this,” Natasha mused as she moved the piles, stacking them a little more carefully so no one would trip. Bucky moved to do the same. “I think we’re going to be okay, James.”

Bucky looked up and caught her watching him. He knew what she meant, he could see it in her gaze. Maybe this was the first real step for him to get over two years ago; maybe he could slowly make living in this flat a little more bearable. And maybe Natasha was ready for that too. “Yeah- maybe,” Bucky agreed. “Thank you, Natalia.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I just think maybe you are being a little too quick here,” Steve rationalized.

“I don’t know what you mean, I think Bucky is actually doing the right thing. The purple is  _ horrible _ .” Bucky turned just enough on the ladder to glare at Tony. “What? I know it was Barton’s favorite color but Bucky, look at it.”

And Tony had a point. Bucky was never a fan of the extensive amount of purple in Clint’s life- the guy had been a huge fan of it. And while Bucky wanted to be supportive of that idea, that didn’t mean purple belonged on the walls of their flat.

“I just think maybe you are moving too fast too soon,” Steve said calmly. “Cleaning out the closet was an amazing step forward, the right kind of progression. But it was yesterday and now today you are- well-”

“Let the man do what he wants, honey,” Tony said, and for the first time in forever, the sweetness behind the voice didn’t rub Bucky the wrong way. He wasn’t being condescending with the tone, Tony was actually trying to diffuse the situation before it turned into a war between Bucky and Steve.

“I’m fine, Steve, it’s something I’ve been meaning to do for awhile,” Bucky said, keeping any tone from his voice if at all possible. “Clint had even agreed to it before he died.” Saying the words hurt, felt wrong, but there was no way around it. “And I like this grey-blue. It was a good suggestion, Tony. It really does neutralize the room while giving it a more modern flair. Or… whatever you said.”

When Bucky looked at Tony, the other man looked stunned. That’s when Bucky realized his latest mistake. “Did… you just agree with me?”

“Take it as a win,” Bucky muttered, grabbing the tray of paint. “Look, I don’t care what you both do. Stand there and stare at me all day for all I care. But it would be great if maybe you both could help?”

Bucky leveled with Steve. Steve still looked unsure of what to do in that situation. He looked around then grabbed a second tray and poured some paint. “Yeah, alright, I’ll help paint,” he said. “Tony, come on.”

“Oh, oh no, I don’t paint,” Tony replied.

“You helped paint Morgan’s room,” Bucky reminded him.

“Yes but that’s my daughter,” Tony explained. “Last time I checked, we didn’t adopt you. Anyway, I should go see how the kids are doing.”

“Peter is seventeen, he can watch Morgan just fine,” Steve scolded. “Roll up your sleeves and paint,  _ honey _ .”

Tony actually whimpered and Bucky looked between them, confused. “But my clothes are expensive.”

“So go borrow some of mine,” Bucky offered, a slow smile creeping on his face. “Out of excuses, Stark.” He tilted his head back to the room. With a sigh of defeat, Tony slunk off to the back. “You would marry a prissy guy,” he taunted Steve.

Steve laughed and started rolling the paint onto the wall. “I know, but he has better qualities about him,” he answered. “Amazing father, great husband-”

“Great in the bedroom,” Bucky said teasingly, just to watch Steve’s cheeks flair.  _ Still the same, after all these years. He is too easy _ . “I know you are concerned Steve, but this is what I want to do. I’m not erasing anything. Hiding anything. I just really hate the purple walls.”

Steve paused for a moment before he picked back up. “I’m never going to stop worrying about you, Buck. You might as well get used to it. Until the end of the line.”

“Going to have to replace that phrase too,” Bucky snorted, flinging paint over at Steve with a mischievous grin.

Steve jumped then launched some of his own paint. “Ass-”

“Language,” Tony said as he walked out. Bucky hazarded a look and was relieved to see that he hadn’t put on anything Clint owned. If Bucky were lucky, Tony would keep that knowledge to himself. Steve flipped Tony off. “So! Natasha was here yesterday… you both talk?” he asked.

“Not much,” Bucky replied. “She wanted to help sort through things, and I agreed. She said there is an Avengers meeting tomorrow so Kate is going to be in town, so I don’t have to ship her things. Or I guess his things that I know Clint would want her to have. Though I am second guessing on all the trick arrows. She doesn’t seem the type to want to explore the crazy that was Clint.”

“You are giving all of that to her?” Steve asked. “You don’t want to keep any of it?”

Bucky shrugged. “I kept some of the rough drawings he did on his ‘sploding arrow and his boomerang. Figured I’d get them framed or something, hang them somewhere.”

“I still don’t see why he wanted a boomerang arrow so bad,” Tony muttered as he got to painting.

At first Bucky hadn’t understood it either, no one had. Clint never really explained it, he would only grin and shrug. It wasn’t until Natasha jokingly told him that he had enough human boomerangs to keep him busy that Bucky understood it. “Sometimes you just need something trusty to come back to you in the end,” he answered.

“Sounds like a Barton response if I’ve ever heard one,” Tony said.

“I’m more shocked he didn’t find a way to make a pizza arrow,” Steve said. “Any sketches for that? Maybe a coffee one?”

Bucky laughed. “Nope, none that I saw. I’ll let Kate have a go with that though.”

It wasn’t easy, talking about Clint like this. If anything, it made Bucky miss him more. But at the same time it was freeing to finally be able to say something without feeling guilt or dread. At some point he wanted to be the one who taught Morgan everything he knew about Clint; or if anyone else had children and wondered about the original Hawkeye, he wanted to be the one everyone went to.

For now, this was enough. The easy talks about Clint, Steve and Tony doing that husband bickering that they did while looking at the other like they were the luckiest person alive. These were the things Bucky missed but was too afraid to get close to in fear that he wouldn’t be able to handle it. But if anything, yesterday with Natasha showed Bucky that maybe he could try to step out again and not worry about what the team thought.

That night, Bucky spent more hours on the communal floor than he had in the last two years combined. He helped prepare dinner with Sam, which was always an adventure with the two of them; Bucky liked Sam, and the way they naturally seemed to pick on each other was easy. He sat at the table and listened to all the gossip. A few times he looked Natasha’s way, happy she was there as well. She caught him staring once and nodded, a silent agreement that they were in this together.

It wasn’t until later that the door opened and everyone looked over. “Hawkeye,” Bucky greeted first.

“Sup?” Kate asked, her hands stuffed in her pockets as she walked over, leaning over the back of the couch. “I missed the movie- crap.”

Kate Bishop was possibly Clint’s third favorite person in the world. She had a quick wit to her, and was equally as talented as him when it came to shooting the bow. Clint was always quick to defend Kate whenever someone asked him about training her.  _ I didn’t train her, she came to me all pre-packaged with a cute little bow of dumbassery  _ he said to one media outlet once, which resulted in a Twitter war because Clint never knew when to back down. And god help the poor soul who tried calling Kate the female Hawkeye, or some variant of that.

In all the years Bucky had known Clint, Clint only once mentioned schooling Kate in anything. Clint showed her how to make the different arrowheads he used, and that was only because she “kept doing it wrong, Buck- she was gonna blast her damn eye out”. And Kate just looked up from the paper she was reading and in a bored tone replied ‘you are dreaming- I had it all under control’; which meant she had nothing under control because she was a Hawkeye, and that was a dangerous phrase when they used it.

“So how was the drive?”

“Oh, thrilling, bad drivers everywhere,” Kate replied, climbing over the couch, invading Bucky’s space before she plopped down. Bucky tried not to think of how Clint-like that was and noted that he would have to ask America about it later. “Everything was quiet though. And so far no texts from anyone saying the west coast is burning so I’m considering it a win.”

Bucky smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Kate turned her head and looked at Bucky before she raised an eyebrow. “If you are going to say something sappy or sentimental, please don’t,” she said. “Not into that level of gross tonight.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything. You’re the worst,” Bucky replied back as dramatically as he could. The sharp look in her eye, the amusement, it made Bucky’s heart swell a little. “I do have things for you to put in your car though. I’ll help you with it.”

“Things?”

“Some things of Clint’s that I’m not going to use but a different archer might?”

Kate got this grin on her face before she got up. “Let’s go, old man. I want to see what I’ve got to work with.”


	4. Chapter 4

“ _Sergeant Barnes, there is a mandatory Avengers meeting being held in fifteen minutes_ ,” the AI system informed him.

Bucky was in the process of hanging items back on the walls. “Thanks FRIDAY, I’ll be there,” he replied, hanging up one of Clint’s bows and leveling it. He stepped back and smiled. Under the bow were the sketches and notes on two of his trick arrows. He tried not to focus on the knot in his stomach, or the way his eyes wanted to water. 

The flat had been coming along nicely. It was a slow process, which Bucky knew it would be, but at least it was clearing the air. Kate took her boxes with her when she headed back west, talking happily about a lot of the things in there. Once the walls were dry, Bucky slowly began hanging up the photos and keepsakes, organizing them more than they had ever been. He would do a little every day, keeping it short and sweet before he would make his way down to the common space. 

He grabbed a hoodie and headed off to the meeting. He figured it was probably some new threat, which only made sense, it had been awhile since their last major event. He walked into the room and looked at Tony before he felt something in him sink. Tony looked lost, in despair, and tried to change it up the moment he saw Bucky. Whatever this was- it was going to be bad. Bucky nodded to him before he took his normal seat, watching as the others who were present filed in. When Natasha walked in she grabbed a chair and pulled it over, sitting next to Bucky. 

Steve was the last one to enter the room and closed the door. He looked tired, worn. Bucky noticed the exchange of glances between him and his husband and he wanted to curl into a ball. Instead, he sat still, just like Natasha, and waited.

“We received this footage approximately an hour ago,” Steve said, sounding defeated. “The video was taken three hours ago.”

Bucky looked at the screen and he felt the room tilt around him. The footage was slightly grainy but the imaging was unmistakable. The movement was uncomfortably familiar while still being foreign as the man on the screen took down four guards with his bare hands before he lifted a gun and fired three perfectly aimed shots. Each movement was smooth, calculated, perfectly timed, and as the clip played on Bucky felt like he couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t until the man turned that Bucky felt what little control he had dissolved. Before, Bucky could pretend that maybe it was a copycat, maybe it was just someone else who was highly trained and moved in the same fashion. Maybe Taskmaster had found someone to train to take over the mantle. But the moment the figure turned towards the camera, all those delusions he was trying to tell himself melted away. It had been over two years since he saw the blue eyes on the screen, and yet there they were, blank and painfully recoginzable. Bucky watched as what should have been Clint raise a gun and the video went out. He heard a cracking noise and looked at the table before he pulled his hands away, inspecting the damage.

_They had him. They had him this whole time_ Bucky thought as the bile started to rise. _HYDRA caught Clint and now he is-_ Bucky’s heart started to beat harder, faster, and he had to get up, had to get out, but he stayed in his spot. Clint worked years to help dismantle HYDRA, had taken down more bases than what Bucky cared to count, and to stop whatever weapons and human trials they were conducting. Years of work only to end up in their hands, manipulated and turned into the very thing he was trying to prevent.

He chanced a glance at Natasha, her face perfectly smooth and focused ahead. Bucky didn’t know how she could stand it. This was _Clint_ \- this was her best friend, the person who showed her how to drag herself out from her own misery, and yet she sat there patiently, processing what she had just seen.

“So what are our options?” she asked calmly, not a hitch in her voice.

“Options?” Bucky asked softly, his voice cracking. “What do you mean, what are our options? We only have one option. We have to get him back.”

“Bucky, it isn’t that simple. He isn’t him,” Natasha said.

“I wasn’t me and Steve got me!” Bucky protested loudly.

“We need to calm down and discuss-” Steve was saying.

“No. No, fuck that. That’s _Clint_ we are talking about,” Bucky said angrily, waving a hand at the screen. He couldn’t understand why no one was understanding what he had just watched. Were they seeing something different?

“It’s a version of Clint,” Bruce spoke up calmly. “No one is saying we don’t need to go after him. But we can’t go in half-cocked here with no plan.”

Bucky wanted to scream, shout, punch something or someone. Well, there were a lot of people he wanted to punch, but they weren’t in the room. He knew Bruce was right- Clint wasn’t an everyday run of the mill person; Clint was a trained assassin and needed to be treated as a threat. But that didn’t make stomaching everything any easier. 

“Is there anything else we can link to him or we have a starting point?” Bruce asked. “Any other videos we might be able to link?”

“There are, and FRIDAY is working on it,” Tony answered. “We are trying to zero in on the uniform he is wearing, and trying to connect that to assassinations. It’s a slow process.” He looked over at Bucky before he looked away. “The only reason we found Bucky was because HYDRA sent him after Steve. They aren’t going to just send Clint out and let a video like this leak, not that easy to catch. They are sending a message.”

“But after so long,” Steve said weakly, rubbing his jaw.

Bucky didn’t want to say why it took so long, though he wasn’t sure it needed to be stated. There was training, responses to words that needed to be deeply embedded into Clint to make him compliant to their wishes. And before that, there was the task of breaking Clint down, turning his brain off and leaving him as empty as they could. Bucky knew that process, could still remember the way it felt every time they wiped his mind. And now they had done it to Clint.

He put his elbows on the table and held his head. _Why would they make it a show? Are they trying to draw us out? Was it a mistake?_ Bucky couldn’t decide what was the most likely reason behind this video. There were better ways of drawing the Avengers out. _They are bragging. Look what we did to just one of your members- look how mighty they are_. He closed his eyes and felt his body tensing again.

“I’ll call T’Challa, see if we can have assistance on this,” Steve said. “If nothing else, when we do get Clint back, because we will,” he said firmly, and Bucky looked up to meet his eyes, “we are going to need their help removing trigger words. Until we make a move, Bucky, I need you to write down everything that helped you last time.” Bucky just gave a slow nod. “We need to work fast.”

“We have a last location,” Natasha said. “I am going to fly out, see what I can find out locally. I still have some connections on that side of the world.” She made it to her feet and walked toward the door, her hand sliding over Bucky’s shoulders as she passed. “I’ll report back anything I find out.”

“I should go with you,” Bucky insisted.

“No, you have your task,” Natasha said firmly as she exited.

“You know we will find him,” Steve said. Bucky looked up, feeling instantly tired. “Clint is one of us, and he is alive and out there. We will bring him home. No matter what.”

Bucky couldn’t concentrate on the task that he was given. All he could think about was Clint, what they had put him through, what he had become. He had that video footage replaying almost on repeat, watching Clint’s movements, catching his eyes, and feeling himself break down a little more every time, and there was nothing he could do about it. Two long years, and who knows how many of those days, weeks, _months_ Clint had spent telling himself that someone, _anyone_ would be coming for him; who knew how long Clint held out trying to bet the odds before they became too great. Let alone, Bucky didn’t want to think about how many times he had wondered when Bucky himself was going to show up.

Without knowing exactly what they had done to Clint, there was no way of telling how he was going to react when they did reach him. Bucky knew it was going to be a fight, but he wasn’t sure how much of Clint was lost to the torture HYDRA would have used. He didn’t know if they were using cryo on Clint, or how often they would wipe Clint’s mind clean again. There were too many variables at play that made it hard to predict anything. All Bucky knew was that no matter what Clint was going to put up a hell of a fight, and they needed to keep that fight on their terms otherwise Clint could gain the upperhand.

Unlike Bucky, Clint wasn’t going to have time between HYDRA and recovery to let his mind start spelling things out for him; Clint was going to be taken directly into custody, which meant he was coming in as HYDRA left him- a dangerous problem to have on their hands. T’Challa wasn’t going to want to endanger his people, which meant Bucky wasn’t sure Clint could go there at first. He was going to have to be taken somewhere more restricted, which was only going to make his brain work faster at solving the problem of being trapped. Clint was always a good escape artist, and they didn’t need him to escape and hurt himself or more people because as soon as Clint started to recover, all the horrors would start coming back to him, and Bucky knew just how badly that was going to destroy him.

“How are you holding up?”

Bucky hadn’t even heard Steve slip into his flat. Bucky looked up, slowly dropping his hands from holding his head up. “I can’t do this,” he whispered. “I can’t- I can’t focus- I can’t-”

“You have to,” Steve pressed as gently as he could.

“Steve-”

“You have to do this for Clint if we have a shot,” Steve added as he walked over and took a seat. “The last thing we need to do is have someone panic and accidentally take him down because he becomes a threat we cannot handle. In order for this to work, we need as many details as you can remember. Cryo, mind wipes, timelines on how those work.”

Bucky knew he was right. They needed to limit the people around Clint when they found him, limiting the possibility of people getting hurt or worse. What happened when Bucky and Steve first ran into each other? The amount of lives lost? Bucky needed to find a way around that.

Steve grabbed the back of Bucky’s neck and applied a firm pressure. “You can do this, Buck. You’re the only one who will be able to relate in any way.”

“Yeah, get out of here, Punk. Figure out where my husband is going to show up at next,” Bucky said, trying to put some confidence in his voice. Steve patted his shoulder and got up, leaving him be. 

Bucky glared at the piece of paper before he walked to the closet and pulled down a box. He never thought he would have to look through his belongings again, not from when he was trying to discover who he was. But he hoped it at least would give him a refresher on what exactly happened, some sort of timeframe.

He worked on it for hours, flipping through notebooks, looking through handwriting and words that seemed to transform from when he was slowly putting himself back together. He used a spare notebook to take down any notes he could- anything that might be of use. Cryo times that he at one time distinctly remembered and had written, how often they had to wipe his mind clean, which seemed to get longer the more under their control he was. Reading it brought back all the memories he had- how often he was in the chair at the beginning, how compliant he was after missions so he could be put back down in stasis. The words were sharp at first, precise, definitive; the longer away he was from HYDRA, the more his writing tended to show the memory gaps and flowed closer to how he spoke. 

“ _Sergeant Barnes, I am detecting a change in your heart rate. Would you like me to contact Sir or Captain Rogers?_ ” The AI helpfully asked.

“No, FRIDAY, I am okay- I can do this,” Bucky said, getting up and giving himself a few minutes to breathe.

Two years. Clint had been gone for two years. He had to be getting wiped often still. Which meant that there was no chance of him remotely remembering anyone when they found him. Bucky suspected the only reason he remembered Steve so vividly was because of the time between. But then again- then again he remembered looking at Steve’s eyes and _knowing_ there was something he had been missing. It wasn’t enough to throw him at first, wasn’t enough for him not to try to complete his mission. But there had been something. And that was after being gone for seventy years. Maybe there was a chance that they didn’t pull all of Clint out yet and the moment he saw the team, saw Natasha and himself that it would give them enough of an edge to lock him down. They just needed a blip, something to jog his mind long enough for them to wrestle him in.

Wrestling him in was going to be a problem that Bucky wasn’t fully prepared for. Clint had a habit of learning other people’s fighting styles- he thought it was fun to imitate the team in various ways, fighting, walking, talking. Clint wrote it off to being a damn good spy. If Clint, however, revealed any of those techniques to HYDRA- well, then they could have another Taskmaster on their hands. Clint had already been accused of that once in the past, but they were eerily similar in how they could pick up skills that other people had. If they used that to train other agents, used _Clint_ to train the other agents on how to do that-

_Shit._ Bucky walked back to the notebook and started scanning through them. He couldn’t remember training too many people- just other super soldiers, and then at the Red Room when they had picked him up. Bucky was a weapon, a tool- not to be wasted on training people. But Bucky had the serum in him, which meant he was a little more than human. As long as HYDRA hadn’t developed the serum, Clint was still one hundred percent Clint, which was still a problem to have. But if they thought Clint could be worth a damn in training other soldiers, maybe the ones who were compliant for longer, then they had more than just Clint to worry about.

After several hours, and possibly more pots of coffee than appropriate, Bucky collapsed down in bed. The one room he hadn’t changed yet was the bedroom- he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. He turned and grabbed a photo off the nightstand and ran his thumb over the glass. The photo was at least five, six years old but Bucky could remember the day with extreme accuracy. Clint and him were forced out of the Tower after making a mess in the kitchen because Clint thought he had found an easier way to make his putty arrows. The picture had the two of them leaning back and laughing, Clint having tears in his eyes, as they were stuck together for hours with the mess they had created. Tony was less than thrilled about it, but Bucky would have done it a million times over just to hear that laugh, just to see that smile that was worth more money than the world could buy.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispered to the photo, feeling his eyes watering the longer he stared at his husband’s face. “I am so sorry, Clint. I didn’t know,” he added, his voice cracking. 

He pulled the photo against his chest before he set it down. Carefully, he reached under the bed and pulled a box out. He pulled out a stuffed bear, designed to look like Bucky in some way that Clint _had_ to buy. He hadn’t seen the bear since Clint died, or rather since he had been gone. The thought made Bucky’s stomach churn again and he pulled the stuffed animal close, breaking down the moment he caught a lingering whiff of Clint.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a wee bit of a warning. This chapter contains depictions of violence that is stronger than the other chapters, so I thought I should give a bit of a head's up. (It doesn't go into great detail.)

“ _I’ve got bad news_.”

Bucky couldn’t stop replaying the words in his head, hearing the tone Natasha had used. Things rarely shook Natasha- honestly, Bucky was surprised when anything did; she had been through and seen so much in her life that he was certain she was immune to surprises. But whatever Natasha had come across? It shook her. She said it was urgent, so they all hopped on a plane.

Now they were in a rundown former HYDRA base, and it had been a long time since carnage made Bucky flinch. Bruce opted to stay behind as soon as they hit the doors, and Sam turned back to stay with him. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were still cleaning up, collecting bodies and going through every square inch of the building, not leaving a single item unturned.

It had been three months since they had all learned that Clint was alive, and this was the first break Natasha got that she had viewed as credible. Every other chase she was sent up led to dead ends, and Bucky watched her carefully placed mask slip more every time they talked. And then she called about this place- and that mask was gone.

Three months and the only thing Bucky could do was work together with T’Challa and Shuri to make sure everything was ready for when they finally did catch Clint, because they were- not recovering Clint wasn’t an option. So he made sure the room was solid, the security measures around it were solid, and hoped that it wouldn’t agitate Clint further. They worked out how long they expected Clint to need to be monitored, and they hoped they were wrong. Mostly Bucky hoped they were wrong on the timeline.

“What do we got?” Steve asked as they found Natasha in what used to be a viewing room, the window shattered, and computers smashed. Across from them was the sight of a familiar looking chair and Bucky tried to not focus on it. Everything in that room felt constricted, the air thinner, and he tried to keep his focus on Natasha and the laptop.

“Want the good news first or the bad?” Natasha asked, looking at Bucky.

“Just get it out,” Bucky said slowly, clearing his throat afterwards. He hated the feeling like at any moment he was about to come undone.

“Clint was here- we missed him by what they are estimating to be forty hours,” Natasha said. _So we were thirty-nine hours too late_ Bucky thought bitterly. “Bittersweet- he isn’t here anymore.”

“And whats the good part of that, exactly?” Tony asked.

“Means he’s not among the dead,” Steve said. “What do we got?” he asked as they all hovered over the monitor.

“It’s… graphic,” Natasha warned. “Tony, would you like to help that agent with data recovery?” she asked.

“I can handle gore,” Tony said dryly.

“I meant the more we can extract, the better chance we have at figuring out what all went on here, how long he was here, and analyze patterns and behaviors for Bucky to watch so we can piece together where Barton’s head might be,” Natasha explained calmly.

Tony opened his mouth then thought better about whatever come back he had. “Yeah, I can help with the tech,” he relented before he left them to help a few of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

“That bad?” Steve asked.

“He was a trained assassin before HYDRA got their hands on him.” It was an easy answer, and told Bucky all he needed to know before she even turned the clip on.

Clint was led into the back room they were standing by, two sets of hands on either side of him as they directed him to the chair, and the bile started to rise in Bucky’s throat. Natasha reached over and held his hand and he gave it a gentle squeeze back as he pulled her a little closer. They let go of him and he turned before he reached back to sit, compliant with whatever they were saying through the shot audio. And in a split second he went from compliant to taking the first two guards out, kicking one away from him while grabbing onto the other and ramming the man’s head into the metal just above the chair. More guards flooded the room but the moment Clint got his hands on a gun it seemed like it was over.

Clint looked directly at the camera, his eyes sharp and unreadable. Bucky noticed how much leaner he looked and it made his stomach roll, threatening to make him ill. He tilted his head before his attention was pulled away and there was what would have been snarl on his lips before he disappeared, leaving the screen with an image of the carnage he had left in his wake.

“What else do we have? Or what do we know?” Steve asked.

“I was only able to extract a few clips while here,” Natasha answered. “I haven’t gone through the files, but I have them packed away and ready to be set in the quinjet. There is… one other thing.” 

Natasha let go of Bucky’s hand, and Bucky hadn’t realized just how much of a lifeline her hand had been. Without it, he felt his hands shaking as he turned to follow. Steve put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder as the three walked a few rooms down. Bucky wasn’t sure if he was feeling sick to his stomach, relieved that at least for the moment Clint had gotten away, or if the rage was about to come out.

Natasha grabbed a large trunk and put it on top of a bench before she opened it. Bucky stood back for a minute before he rushed forward and snatched up the black bow. Pressing a button on the side, he shook it out and watched it spring to the full length bow Clint used on missions. He turned it over until his finger was greeted with a familiar deep etching, felt the letters running just underneath. The bow appeared to be worse for wear, scorch marks on it that hadn’t been there before, but it was his. The box appeared to contain all the personal belongings Clint had on him when he was recovered.

Bucky nearly dropped the bow as he worked his way through the box, digging with one goal in mind. His breath caught in his throat when he found the dark silver band at the very bottom of the box. Bucky’s fingers hovered over it for a moment before he pulled it up, clutching it in his hand. He felt his shoulders pulling up and he squeezed his eyes closer to fight back the tears.

“Bucky-”

He needed to get out of the room. He picked up Clint’s bow and shoved Steve out of the way before he stalked down the hall, one goal in mind. He slung the bow over his shoulder like he had seen Clint do a million times as he got back to the room with the all too familiar chair. Piece by piece he started breaking it apart, ignoring the stinging cuts on his hands because he knew damn well they would heal faster than his heart ever could. It wasn’t until he felt a soft touch to his back that he whipped around and pulled Natasha into a tight hug and screamed, finally letting his emotions fall through him.

“I know,” Natasha whispered, holding Bucky tighter than she had ever held him before. “I know, I’m sorry.” Her hands slipped from his back before she was holding his face. “We’ll find him. If he got away- he’ll start putting everything together. We’ll find him.”

“We were thirty-nine hours too late,” Bucky said through a sob. “What if he got hurt? What if he-”

“We will find him,” Natasha said firmly with tears in her eyes. Bucky nodded and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers as they both breathed. “Better?”

“No, but it’s a start.”

“Got something,” Tony called and Natasha was on the move before Bucky even had a change to react. He followed her into the other room. “I think I have saved everything we can- which was a challenge, thank you Barton.”

“HYDRA typically has codes to destroy their own evidence in case a base is going down,” Steve pointed out.

“Yeah well-” Tony clicked a button.

It was yet another video, but this time the audio wasn’t completely. There were an abundance of alarms and shouting, gunshots ringing out above it all it seemed. A scientist was at a computer, trying to connect something from the looks of it before Clint entered the room. There was begging and the beginnings of phrases that only made Clint flinch at the first three before he smirked and shot the person. He walked over to the computer and hesitated before he worked on it for a minute, turning occasionally to take a different shot.

“ _Soldier_ ,” a man said. Clint looked back and Bucky noticed a look that was so characteristically Clint that he thought for a moment that he might be whole somehow. It was an almost smug smile, his head angled in a way to convey the right level of confidence that screamed _do not fuck with me_ . “ _You are report to room 12-B for recalibration.”_

Clint stepped over and dropped the gun onto a chair. He held his hands up and stalked forward in a fluid motion. As soon as the HYDRA agent reached him, Clint grabbed him and spun him, knocking him into the wall right at the edge, clipping his head before dragging him to a chair. He put his hand on a scanner and waited before he smacked the man’s head against the dash several times.

“ _Thank you for your compliance_ ,” he growled before he took a new gun, checking it over before he looked at the camera and shot it.

Bucky sat down and held his head. “How many of these videos do we have?”

“Quite a few,” Tony answered. “We’ll have to go through them all when we get back to the Tower. Come up with our next plan of attack.”

Bucky nodded and leaned back before he looked at Steve. “So now he is a danger to himself, danger that HYDRA might recapture, or- who fuckin’ knows.”

Steve nodded. “We’ll have to work fast,” he agreed.

They couldn’t wait for the Tower before everyone on the jet who wasn’t piloting was looking over the videos, looking for any clue they could. So far, all they had come up with was that Clint wasn’t actually anywhere close to his old self, which was evident through his style of fighting matching that of Bucky’s more than anything. His speech was off, and they could see old, crusted blood around his ears, which didn’t bode well for his already shot hearing. From what they could tell in the single, grainy video, Clint was injured when he left the base, though they couldn’t tell the extent of it in the video. He was walking as if nothing was wrong, but they could see the blood seeping from his shoulder and arm; Clint had always been good at masking pain, but as a Soldier, he was only going to be better at it, which was a frightening problem to have.

Once they were back at the Tower, Tony and Bruce excused themselves to the lab. Bucky sat with Steve, Natasha, and Thor all in various states of disbelief and reflection. Bucky felt emotionally drained as he turned Clint’s ring in his hand. Natasha was barely brushing against his side, and he could see the faintest doubts leaking through her calm facade.

“Where does this lead us?” Thor asked finally. “It was a daunting task to begin as we tried to find our missing brother.” He scanned the faces in the room.

“Don’t know yet,” Steve answered with a sigh. “Without knowing where Clint is in his headspace, we don’t know how he will react.”

“Yes, but we must be the ones to find our hawk first,” Thor said. “I can ask my brother-”

“Bad idea,” Natasha said. “If there is any part of Clint that remembers Loki we may be setting ourselves up for an explosive situations.”

“I agree with Natasha here,” Steve said. “Depending on where Clint is with any memories he might obtain while being free, if it’s the wrong one we risk the two of them getting into a fight.”

Thor nodded and leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs. “I will talk with my men in Asgard, see what we may be able to do. Certainly there has to be an easy way to locate Clint. He cannot stay hidden from us for long.” He got up and grabbed his hammer. As he walked by, his hand came down on Bucky’s shoulder. “We will find your husband soon enough and we will all be able to rejoice.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said because what else could he say? He watched as Thor left and leaned forward, tugging at his lips.

“What do you remember from the time you broke away from HYDRA?” Steve asked.

“Very little- the timeline doesn’t make sense to me,” Bucky answered. “The first six months made very little sense. Not being given missions, not having someone control your every move- it was jarring.” He leaned back and rubbed his face. “What is bothering me is- there was enough of someone there that wasn’t a compliant soldier that was able to pull that off. Their memories wipes and everything should have been working, but somehow they weren’t. Clint, in some fashion, broke free. Until we read everything over, because they kept notes in great detail, I don’t think we’ll figure out what exactly happened or what made him snap.”

“Could it have been that they used him for field missions too soon?” Natasha asked. “Maybe they were more confident in their approach than what they were with you. Maybe they rushed it.”

“Could be.” Bucky rubbed his face again before he got up. “I need to sleep. We all do.”

Bucky left Natasha and Steve to talk more as he headed off to his flat. Sleep wasn’t easy to come by as Bucky replayed every video he had watched in his head. Nothing about the man on the screen told him Clint had any control over himself, at least not a Clint he would recognize. There was no doubt in his mind that if he ran into Clint tomorrow, or in a week, that he wouldn’t recognize Bucky from anyone else. He had hoped at first that him escaping was somehow a good sign, but it had left more questions than anything else.

Wordlessly, Bucky felt his bed dip before Natasha curled up next to him. Bucky turned onto his side and wrapped an arm around her as he felt her body shake. _Three months is a very long time to be chasing a ghost of a friend_. He kissed the back of her head and closed his eyes, hoping the dreams would be merciful when they finally came.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky looked around the improvised meeting room. The team had opted to go back to South America the next day while pulling in other members. T’Challa had shown up, watching the clips they had found. Natasha seemed to stay the furthest away from anyway, which was only unusual to the point that when planning attacks, she liked to be in the middle of things. 

“It is unsettling to say the least,” T’Challa said, setting the tablet down. “We believe he is free but not completely of his own mind, correct?”

“That’s what Bucky can tell by watching the video and we all agree,” Steve said. “Clint doesn’t move like that- the only person he hadn’t learned to mimic movement from yet to any of our knowledge is Bucky and yourself. The fact he is still moving, for the most part, like a soldier means he is fresh.”

“And that is where the plan picks up,” Tony said. “I think we have it narrowed down where he is located. We want to send you four in, with Red Wing as an assist so Steve and I can monitor from here.”

“You do not wish to be there when we acquire our friend?” Thor asked.

“He knows our patterns too well,” Steve interjected. “He knows our fighting style. It would be dangerous for all parties if we rush in. Anyway, we thought limiting it to four people might limit the damage should there be any.”

It was partially true. Bucky was the one who suggested they limit their scope, mostly because Clint knew too much about all the members of the Avengers. Tony had argued that they should all be there, but Steve agreed that it would likely end up in a fight with people getting hurt since Clint likely wouldn’t remember any of them properly. Tony was still upset about it, even if he managed to keep it as under wraps as Tony could. 

Thor glanced over at T’Challa before they both nodded. “Bucky and Natasha are going because if he remembers either of them, it’s the best way to pull him in without a fight,” Tony said. “Thor and T’Challa are going because if Clint doesn’t remember any of us, they are our best chance at pulling Clint in. As unharmed as possible.” Bucky hated how Tony had to add the last part- he knew it was reasonable to assume that Clint may get hurt in this process, any of them could.

“We will do our best to bring him in unharmed,” T’Challa said. “We will take him straight to Wakanda and into his holding cell or medical. We will see what limits he can take at first and we will go from there. My sister is delighted to have yet another white boy needing her assistance,” he said with a level of fondness, his eyes locking with Bucky’s.

Bucky sighed. “She acts as if she doesn’t get to assist a dozen of non-white boys daily.” He rose an eyebrow. “Princess Shuri liked Clint.”

“Mainly because then she got to see Peter,” Tony said with a smirk.

“Ah, yes. Still not a fan,” T’Challa commented before he stood. “I need to place a call, let everyone know that it is our goal to be back within the week. That way finish preparations can be made. Bucky, would you care to join me?”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered, getting to his feet and walking out with T’Challa. “What is the plan?”

“Shuri made a device that should keep Clint unconscious for the duration of the trip, moving him from here to Wakanda without issue,” T’Challa informed him. “I need to head back to Wakanda for the day to prepare and would like you to join me. Shuri would like to explain the device to you so that you know it is safe to use on your husband.”

Bucky appreciated that Shuri was worried about Bucky’s feelings towards the situation. “I trust her,” Bucky answered. “However, I need to stay here in case-”

“We need to go,” Natasha said, walking past them. T’Challa frowned and Bucky stood in his spot. “We might know where he is. Hope you are ready for a fight, boys.”

Bucky swore and hung his head for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. “James.” Bucky looked up at T’Challa. “Your husband will be okay. I will place the call now, have Okoye come with Shuri with the device.”

“I don’t want Shuri around for this,” Bucky said before he started forward. “It’s too dangerous.”

“And it will be even more dangerous for us if we do not keep Clint contained on the flight,” T’Challa reasoned. “Shuri will be okay, rest assured.”

Bucky relented because in the end it wasn’t his decision to call the shots when it came to T’Challa, his people, or his family. Instead, he followed Natasha to where they had most of their supplies and loaded up.

“We are certain that it is him?” T’Challa asked.

“We are, the footage was taken an hour ago,” Natasha said. “He’s hurt, looks like he is bunkering down. Tony patched through the coordinates,” she added before sharing them with T’Challa. “Good news is- S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t have activity in the area so we are less at risk for an accidental takedown. Steve and Tony are sticking close, and Thor is taking high ground and will join should we… fail to do our job.”

“How long before we arrive at his location once we leave?” Bucky asked.

“Three hours. Tony is keeping extra monitors in the area, sending more tech in. If he moves, we’ll know it.”

Bucky exchanged a look with T’Challa. “I will ask that my support get here as quickly as possible,” T’Challa said before he placed the call.

“Natasha,” Bucky whispered.

“We only get one chance at this,” Natasha said. “One easy shot. If he gets away, who knows when we will find him next. This recovering mission is  _ not _ going to fail.”

“No… it’s not,” Bucky agreed.

It was a long three hours to travel out to their location. Everyone seemed to be in the same reserved mood, keeping the chatter to a minimum. Tony, for the most part, watched out his window, playing with his bottom lip as he thought. Natasha was as unreadable as ever, her eyes fixed straight ahead. Thor and T’Challa both appeared to be running variables in their head, but out of everyone, they looked the calmest. Bruce mostly was working on something on his tablet. Steve kept glancing Bucky’s way, a silent question hanging between them. No, Bucky was not holding up okay despite what he was displaying; and no, he did not want to talk about it. Bucky offered him a weak smile and a head nod just once and Steve returned the gesture. 

“We’ll stop here,” Bruce said and the vehicle rolled to a stop.

“We’re blocks away,” Tony said, leaning over to look at the tablet.

“Better he doesn’t see all of us coming out of a van at the doorstep, right?” Bruce asked. “We’ll give Thor, T’Challa, Natasha, and Bucky a head start to make their way over, and then we’ll pull closer. And I believe T’Challa’s unit is supposed to be the one to remain the closest to the scene.”

“According to this, they should be on location in twenty minutes,” T’Challa said, waving his hand over a phone.

“Then I suppose we should get this party on the road,” Steve commented. “Thor, try to stay as quiet as you can. Don’t draw attention to your location. Sam-”

“I know how to fly Red Wing,” Sam said. “Keep it close, help distract Barton if things start heading south and the ground unit needs a breather.”

“If you need Tony and I, you know you can call us,” Steve told Bucky. “We’ll be there in an instant. Bruce… last ditch effort. Let’s only use the big guy if we need to.” Bruce nodded silently. “We’ll get him back today.”

“Good pep talk,” Natasha said before she slid out of the van.

Bucky watched her before he grabbed his vest and jumped out, pulling it on as he walked. He caught a glimpse of T’Challa’s suit encasing him before he caught up to Bucky’s stride. “Glad this time I’m not on the other end of this.”

“No, instead your husband gets another taste of it,” T’Challa mused.

“And Clint hates cats.” T’Challa turned his head slightly and Bucky saw the smile forming. “Just figured I’d point it out now. Not sure he ever told you.” T’Challa chuckled and his face mask came on.

The building was run down at best. Natasha looked over at Bucky who only nodded. Three against one was good odds, and close corners was even better for Natasha and T’Challa. Bucky took the backside of the building, waiting until he heard the cue from Natasha to infiltrate. Through the back, Bucky let his eyes adjust to the dark before he carefully made his way through. Everything was covered in dust and dirt as if the structure hadn’t been used for some time. There were clear footsteps, but following them would be next to impossible.

He cleared the rooms he went through, drawing a little X near them through the dust so he knew not to double back through. He stopped at the foot of stairs that led down and considered his options. Bucky wouldn’t have chosen an underground space to bunker down in no matter if he was the Soldier or in his rightful mind. There would only be one, maybe two, ways out from a cellar, and access wouldn’t be easy. However, knowing that, he also thought it was a possibility that Clint would use that logic to hide out down there.

_ It just had to be a basement _ Bucky thought to himself as he turned on a small light and started his descent as slowly and quietly as possible. He hadn’t hit cobwebs, which meant someone had to have been down here at some point within a short amount of time. He tightened his grip on his light and stood at the bottom of the stairs before moving. The only light source came from two small windows, which there was no way anyone but a child had the chance of crawling out from.

“Time to come out, Soldier,” Bucky said, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth. “This is not for calibration, but your compliance is needed. You are wounded, and a weak Soldier cannot further the cause.”

Bucky stopped and looked at an access point, the cellar door cracked. He swore and reached up. “We might have missed-”

He felt the searing pain in his arm before he was even aware of the movement around him. Bucky turned and missed a knife before he knocked the person back. He caught one good look at Clint before it turned to all action again. The movements were familiar, and Bucky at least knew the counters so he wouldn’t get stabbed again. The one thing Clint had over Bucky was his flexibility. He angled himself in different ways than Bucky had ever learned, and Clint was picking up how to use that to his advantage. Bucky knew that he needed to reign this in before Clint found a way to get the upper hand.

“Clint,” Bucky said, pushing him back another time, seeing him slip before he caught his footing. Bucky held a hand out. “Clint, listen to me-” 

Clint’s lips pulled up into a snarl and he flipped his knife before pushing forward again. Bucky kicked Clint’s side and noticed the way he pulled back. That’s when he saw the dried blood on his clothing; one towards his shoulder, one on his arm, another large spot on his side, and some on his leg where the pants had been torn. When the sun hit that spot of skin, Bucky saw a sloppily patched wound, the fabric slick with blood.

“Clint, you have to-”

Clint slipped under Bucky and got a hit in his thigh and Bucky hissed from the pain before he spun around and caught Clint by the neck, forcing him back towards a wall, knocking the knife out of his hand. He was pale in the light, his eyes dark as he glared at Bucky. Clint grabbed onto Bucky’s arm and tried to twist it off.

“We’re not them,” Bucky said. “We aren’t HYDRA.”

“I know you’re not, Bucky.” Bucky was taken back and felt his breath catch. His hand loosened up and he felt like he had been thrown through the loop. “You’re on my list.” 

Clint grabbed onto his arm and twisted them around, latching his legs around Bucky’s shoulders in a move Bucky knew Natasha and Clint had done several times, and he was flung to the side. Bucky scrambled to get up as Clint darted to the partially opened cellar door.

“Shit. Guys, he’s coming out through the back,” Bucky said through the communication line and gave chase.

“I will attempt to intercept,” Thor answered. 

Bucky followed Clint up and tried to tackle him at the knees but Clint jumped up at the last second and looked back. Clint slid away and grabbed a knife out of his back pocket before there was a crackling of lightning. Bucky looked up at the same time Clint had, Thor coming down from the roof, a bolt of lightning pushing Clint back closer to the building.

“Friend Clint, you must surrender,” Thor said, blocking the forward escape. Clint narrowed his eyes and scanned his surroundings. “We are merely trying to help you.” Bucky got up and Clint threw the knife just right, wedging it between two plates on Bucky’s arm and it went heavy under him. Bucky pulled the knife out and stuffed it away. “That is no way to treat your-”

Clint charged at Thor and Bucky thought this was an absolute nightmare. Thor threw his hammer and Clint dodged to the left before he jolted to the right and jumped, using the wall to propel him above Thor. It was almost in slow motion to Bucky that Clint’s right foot landed on his shoulder while his left knee pulled up to lip Thor in the nose. Out of reflex, Thor grabbed his face and took two steps back as Clint did a backflip before he landed and took off again.

“Clint!”

It was the sound of metal smacking into bone that made Bucky’s stomach clench. Clint was knocked sideways and bounced off the wall before his legs started giving away on him, sinking. There was blood blooming around his shoulder and Clint hung his head. Steve caught his shield and ran down towards them.

“Bucky!” Bucky was on his feet and on his way over, reaching out and grabbing the injured arm while Steve grabbed Clint’s other and hauled him up. “How's your arm?”

“Dead,” Bucky answered. “Did you clip his head?”

“I’m pretty sure I knocked his shoulder, not his head,” Steve answered. “He’s breathing- we're certain he is out?” 

Bucky ducked his head to get a better look. Clint’s eyes were closed, his face relaxed. “If not, he’s a damn good actor.” He ran a finger over a cut on Clint’s head before he pressed down to try to stem the bleeding.

T’Challa walked out of the house with Natasha. “Is he alive?”

“Knocked out,” Steve answered. “We got that device? Are we sure it’s safe?”

“Shuri wouldn’t have sent it if it weren’t,” Bucky said confidently. 

T’Challa pulled a small disc out and stuck it against Clint’s neck and they all waited. There was no reaction, no movement- they were greeted with a completely worn Clint. Steve nodded and T’Challa held onto Clint’s shoulders while Steve bent down before picking him up. Steve walked around the building first, looking around as he did so.

Shuri got out the small jet parked not too far away. “Did it work, brother?”

“He was unconscious when we placed it on him- we will have to see,” T’Challa said, pulling his back off. “James’ arm got damaged in the fight.”

Shuri was all smiles at that before she smacked Bucky’s arm. “Ruin the things I make for you. Has no one taught you any manners?” she taunted playfully.

If it weren’t for the fact that slowly Bucky’s mind was catching up to him, he would have replied back. But now he felt worn, his nerves fried, but there was a relief. Steve turned and Clint’s head was tucked up against Steve’s neck. He looked like hell, but he was safe. Steve laid him down and Shuri and Bruce were on him in a flash.

Bucky looked at the hand that touched his arm before he looked at Natasha. She gave him a weak smile before she looked at Clint, his face breaking back down to neutral. “Now the hard part?”

“Now the hard part,” Bucky agreed.


	7. Chapter 7

It was just as maddening to sit around waiting for word on Clint as it was sitting around trying to find Clint. Bucky was pretty sure he chewed his thumb raw and was working on his next finger. At least Natasha had convinced him to stop pacing, mostly by threatening to nail his feet to the ground. And when his legs started to bounce all it took was one look to stop that behavior as well.

It was verging on three days and so far they hadn’t received any word on how he was doing, how he was recovering, or if he had woken up yet. The only thing they had been told was that for the time being, everyone thought it was best for Clint to be exposed to as few people as possible until they could figure out his mindset.

Steve and Tony had to go home- they had Peter and Morgan to check on. Bruce had stayed behind to observe Wakandan technology, which Bucky wasn’t surprised about. Thor had taken off as soon as Shuri and T’Challa assured him Clint was in a contained, safe environment. He had given one last look at Bucky before he left, leaving the unspoken request hanging in the air. Bucky was going to have to provide him with updates, somehow, and he hoped Natasha could help him with that. He also shot off a quick text to Wanda and Kate, letting them know Clint had been retrieved.

T’Challa was the one to walk into the room. Natasha looked up while Bucky stood. T’Challa held a hand up and shook his head. “He is awake and not responding to anything we are asking him. Shuri made sure every injury was taken care of before pulling the device out to allow him to wake up.”

“How’s his shoulder?” Bucky asked.

“It was broken, but it will be fine,” T’Challa answered. “His leg will be fine as well, it was infected but it is under control.”

“So can we see him?” Natasha asked.

“I am not sure that is such a good idea. He did not remember Bucky enough to not attack. I am sure he will try again while he should be resting.”

“He said my name,” Bucky argued. “He knew me.”

“But does he know who you are outside of being the former Winter Soldier?” T’Challa asked. “We will not know until all of the documents have been read through. They keep very detailed notes. Perhaps we should wait.”

Bucky had to swallow back his anger about having to wait. He knew it was for the best, give Clint a few days to heal before they figured out what to do with him. But he had wasted too many years thinking he was dead, too many months not knowing if he were okay, and Bucky just wanted to see him, even if it were heartbreaking.

“A monitor then,” Natasha offered. “Something so we can watch him from a distance?”

T’Challa gave her a small smile and held something out. “That is what I am here for,” he answered. “This links to the live feeds in Clint’s room. I cannot say much is going on currently. He has not spoken to anyone since waking up, and he has barely eaten. Do you remember the schedule HYDRA kept you on?”

Natasha took the thin laptop from T’Challa. Bucky shook his head. “I remember it being food of convenience, nothing special. Lots of food that came preserved, in packages, that could be eaten on the move.”

“So give him a protein bar,” Natasha said. “Pre-Soldier Clint liked them. HYDRA probably gave him that or anything nutrient dense. It was about living, not enjoying.” She set up the laptop and kicked on the feed. Bucky was only faintly aware that T’Challa had said something.

Clint was sitting on the bed of his room, his eyes locked on the door with a completely blank expression. There were still bags under his eyes, bruises against pale skin. Bucky wanted to reach out and push his hair back, too long for how Clint normally kept it. Everything made Bucky’s fingers itched to find a way to soothe him, just like he had done many times after hard missions. He wanted to pull Clint’s hair back so it wasn’t in his face as much, even if it would have been the world’s smallest ponytail. Clint’s back straightened and Bucky watched Okoye walk into the room, just barely. She tossed him a wrapped snack of some sort, which he caught easily.

“Eat it, Soldier,” she said in an even tone that made Bucky’s hairs stand up. Automatically, Clint unwrapped the bar and took a bite. Okoye’s eyes found a different camera and she nodded before she turned and left.

“He cannot live off of those,” T’Challa said.

“No, but for now it will keep him fed,” Natasha agreed. “Why didn’t he attack?”

“He’s not in a threatened position, no one is coming within range,” Bucky said. “And, honestly, no one is ordering him to. If given the order, he likely would still.”

Okoye walked into Natasha’s and Bucky’s room, stepping up to T’Challa. “I do not enjoy him in this fashion,” she commented.

“I do not believe any of us do,” T’Challa answered. “I will have food delivered soon. Try to not watch the video feed all night. Rest. There is nothing we can do just yet, but soon we can.”

“Thank you,” Natasha said and Bucky could only nod. His eyes kept flickering to the screen, trying not to be rude while still trying to keep an eye on Clint.

T’Challa and Okoye left and Bucky turned his full attention to Clint. He had finished his food and set the wrapper down right along the upper corner of the bed. Without anyone in the room, his posture relaxed again.

That night, Natasha and Bucky were silent while watching the camera feed. They ate their food, and Bucky took care of the dishes before he came back, Clint still firmly in his place. The pit in Bucky’s stomach kept growing as they waited for a sign of anything.

It wasn’t until the lights went out in the room, the camera turning over to night vision that Clint had moved. Natasha leaned in closer and frowned. As Bucky suspected, Clint was on the move once the lights were out. He inspected every inch of the room that he could, his fingers touching everything, looking for a weakness in the structure he could take advantage of. It was slow, methodical, a strange mix of Soldier and Clint that Bucky couldn’t pull apart.

Clint lingered in front of one of the cameras, his eyebrows knitted together. Bucky felt his stomach tighten and fill with the need for everything to go back to full color. This close, he had a chance of making out the freckles that tracked along his nose and cheeks, light and barely there. He would be able to pull apart the blues in his eyes, something Bucky longed to do since the first video of Clint surfaced. Instead, he prepared for the camera to be dismantled. After a moment, Clint’s fingers were on the camera, moving the feed over, and Bucky could see his eyes scanning the area before he was gone from view.

“He’s trying to make it so no one can watch him,” Natasha whispered, frowning as she watched Clint find the next camera and begin the process again. “He’s moving them so they are not focused on the bed.” 

She started to get up before Bucky touched her hand. “There is nothing in there he can hurt himself with. As long as he leaves the cameras rolling, we are still in a safe situation. Or relatively so.”

Natasha settled back down and watched as slowly Clint disappeared from all the video feeds. As soon as the last camera was moved and he moved to the only spot in the room he couldn’t be seen in, Natasha was up and pacing, her hands playing with her hair as she thought. Bucky closed the laptop and turned to watch her.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bucky said eventually.

“We don’t know that,” Natasha replied.

“Even if he is still purely under the HYDRA influence, which I highly doubt, that is just as much a Clint move,” Bucky said. “We’ve seen him do it before- when he was at S.H.I.E.L.D. and under video supervision. He didn’t like being watched. It’s something we understand.”

“That doesn’t mean everything will be okay,” Natasha said before she stopped pacing. “But… this is a start.”

“This is a start,” Bucky agreed.

The next day they watched as they pinned Clint to a location, his eyes dark as he watched the guards before his eyes would flicker up to the cameras. They were installing cases over the cameras to make sure they stayed in place. Clint didn’t attempt the move the entire time people were in the room. As soon as they were gone, he was back on his spot on the bed.

That night, Bucky and Natasha watched as Clint attempted to remove the cases. Bucky could hear his nails trying to work under the seam, his face twisting up in concentration. He had spent approximately ten minutes on each camera case before he went back to his bed, his body tense as he laid back.

By the time they woke up the next morning, his fingertips had been wrapped in some sort of tape.


	8. Chapter 8

_ Clint sat next to the burning building and Bucky had no way of getting near him. Bucky reeled his fist back and punched at the invisible barrier between them. Bucky knew his hearing aids were shot from the explosion, and he was currently on the losing end of the consciousness battle from the looks of it. His eyes were hazy as they watched Bucky, his head swaying a little before he would try to straighten up, try to keep his focus. _

_ “Get up!” Bucky shouted, hitting the barrier again. “Clint! Get up!” Bucky’s mouth felt dry, his voice hoarse from all the smoke he had breathed in to get this far.  _

_ There were sirens overhead, a clear warning that another round of bombing was about to happen. Clint wasn’t in his Hawkeye uniform anymore, or even in his S.H.I.E.L.D. issued gear; he was now in old military garb and Bucky saw the dog tags. That’s when it started to rain and Bucky felt his boots instantly sinking. _

_ “No. No no no,” Bucky cried, trying to pick his feet up. _

_ “It’s okay, Buck, just let me go,” Clint said and Bucky looked over at him. He had a nervous grin, like he knew just how screwed they were. “You can leave. I’ll be okay.” _

_ “I’m not leaving you!” Bucky shouted, sinking in the mud down to his waist. He swore and tried to move forward. The barrier was gone at least and he felt like he was just within reaching distance. “Clint, please-” _

_ Clint’s eyes narrowed for a moment before his whole body went rigid. That’s when the blank look overcame his features. He pulled himself to his feet and Bucky recognized in horror that his outfit had shifted yet again. It was his outfit- the Soldier’s outfit, and Clint picked up a boot. _

_ “It’s all going to be okay now,” he said before he stomped his boot down towards Bucky’s head. _

“You need to take a break and come home. You both do.” Bucky kept his eyes out the window, looking over the main city of Wakanda. It was a far cry from the part of Wakanda Bucky was most comfortable and familiar with, and he wished that they were in the backcountry, maybe in that little hut. His mind was still replaying the latest dream, meshing all of his nightmare situations into one.

“We’re fine,” Natasha said smoothly. She had been having nightmares too, Bucky could see it in the darkness of her eyes. Just like Bucky, her comfort buddy still viewed them as a threat.

“You both look like shit,” Steve answered with a low growl behind it. “You both are torturing yourselves being here and doing nothing other than watching the video feed. And for nothing. There has been no improvements.”

“Steve,” Tony warned.

“No. No. It’s been three months,” Steve shouted. “Three months and he hasn’t changed. And I know it is hard, and I know you both want him to be better, but he isn’t going to get better just by you both watching a screen.”

Bucky turned away from the window and looked at Steve. “So you would rather us be in the Tower and be miserable there?” he asked carefully. “Would you rather watch us every day be miserable? Because it doesn’t change anything. Either way, he is still in there and we are still-”  _ In the dark  _ is what Bucky wanted to say. 

They were still on the losing end of the battle and there was nothing either of them could do. Bucky and Natasha knew that. Despite what Steve said, Clint had made a few steps forward in the three months he had been in Wakanda. He wasn’t trying to remove the cameras anymore, he had given up on that. He also was off of his bed more often now, usually doing stretches. One of the few times he spoke, it was to Shuri. She had asked if he wanted a screen installed to watch yoga videos, stream music, anything relaxing. Clint had looked at her with confusion, stepped back to his corner, giving her more space than what she needed, and had asked what yoga was.

The only people Clint seemed to talk to at all were Shuri and her mother, Ramonda, and even then it was kept at a bare minimum. Bucky had watched a recording of Clint waking up from a nightmare and Ramonda had gone in to try to soothe his fears away. She was the only one he had allowed to touch him in three months, and even then Bucky could see the inner battle he had while she held him, checked him over head to toe in a gentle way. Now, it seemed like Clint was a little more willing to give short, quick replies to their questions.

It was often that Clint seemed to wake up in some state of distress. At first it seemed like it startled him more than anything. Now, Bucky could see the dark bags as he tried to sleep less to avoid the dreams or nightmares. There were a few times that Clint fell asleep in different areas of his room, on his bed, in a corner, against the wall, anywhere to see if it would make a difference it seemed. There were a few times Clint was caught after these sudden wakeups, and each time he would give short, quick answers to any questions thrown his way. The most common was “I’m fine” repeated softly, growing more firm over time.

In three months, Bucky and Natasha had tried to visit Clint a dozen times. Each time was met with the same end- one of them would be on their ass while the other eventually got a disc on Clint’s neck. The first half dozen times were the hardest, Clint fighting his hardest. The second time Clint managed to break Natasha’s wrist, and Bucky was pretty sure he had come out more bruised than anything else a few times. Clint earned himself several black eyes during the first six visits, moving slower after those visits and Bucky could only imagine the bruises, because if Bucky had them, Clint had them for much longer.

The more visits, the more Clint had started fighting back less. Towards the end, Clint even seemed to have started pulling his punches, waiting longer before launching into an attack. The last time there was a glimmer of hope for one moment. Okoye had come into the room and shouted something about Clint making things an absolute disaster and he had stopped fighting and stared at her before Bucky placed the disc on his neck and caught him before he could fall.

“He’s doing better,” Bucky said eventually, turning back to look outside. “He just won’t talk to us. Won’t make choices for himself. But he is better.”

“He is not-”

Bucky felt his muscles tense when the power to the room went off. The room stayed absolutely silent for a minute, no one moving. “Shit,  _ Clint _ ,” Steve said before he ran for the door.

“What is going on?” Bucky asked when the power came back just enough for the floors to illuminate. “They run on a sustainable resource. This shouldn’t be happening.”

“I don’t know but-”

“James. Natasha.” T’Challa was heading down the hall with Okoye. “We need to escort you four to a safe location. It seems as though our friend managed to get himself free and found his way to our power supply, coding  _ something _ .”

“Coding something?” Natasha asked.

“I do not know, it is just what Shuri has told me,” T’Challa answered. “We are looking for him, but until we know what is going on, it is better if the people he targets are on supervision. No mistakes.”

Natasha looked puzzled, trying to think. She looked up at Bucky. “He must have remembered how to encrypt a malware or something.”

“He did not,” Tony groaned. “Where is Shuri? I can help her,” he offered.

As they made their way in the relative darkness, Steve and T’Challa started formulating a plan. Bucky knew Clint couldn’t have gotten far- he never learned how to leave Wakanda by himself, saying it was a security protocol to make sure the civilians of the nation stayed safe. But that didn’t mean Clint was safe within the borders. There were wild animals to worry about, people who didn’t see eye to eye with T’Challa, or just didn’t trust him because he was an outsider.

“Brother,” Shuri said. “We have found him. I ordered no one to approach.”

“Where?” T’Challa said as Shuri flipped a tablet.

Bucky didn’t know how Clint managed to get as far as he had in the time he had done it, but Bucky knew of the place. He had been mesmerized by the same garden in the city when he had come, and Bucky had enjoyed the sound of the waterfall that was off to the side where Clint was standing.

“I’ll head out and-” Steve began to say.

“He asked for James,” Shuri said. “The guard who found him said that Clint asked specifically for James.”

“No,” Steve said sternly.

“Not your call, punk,” Bucky said. “I’ll have people with me. I can handle him.”

“It’s not safe. Just nine days ago he-”

“I said it’s not your call,” Bucky said again, much more firmly.

“I will go with you and stay back,” T’Challa offered.

Steve didn’t look anymore impressed than he had, and Tony kept a hand firmly fixed on his shoulder. “Stay here, protect Shuri and everything,” Bucky said. He glanced at Natasha who nodded. She moved closer to Steve and nudged him back, and Steve relented.

The walk to the garden was short and tense. There were guards at the entry point, looking at Bucky and T’Challa warily. From everything Bucky had seen, Clint didn’t have a weapon, but that didn’t mean he didn’t find one since being in there. T’Challa nodded to the guards and slipped inside, following Bucky a few yards in.

“Shout if you need me,” T’Challa said. “I will keep a close eye from here.”

Bucky nodded and made his way over to where Clint was standing. He looked up when Bucky came closer and Bucky watched the way his muscles tightened before he swallowed, loosening up and holding his hands up. Bucky stopped a few yards away.

“I am not going to hurt you,” Bucky said. “I don’t even have a disc. So… whatever happens, happens.”

Clint nodded, keeping his hands raised in the universal sign of surrender. For the first time since Clint had been rescued, he looked uncertain and uncomfortable. He looked as if he was having a problem coming up with the words he wanted to use, which was something Bucky was used to. Normally he would wait it out, but this was different territory.

“Let me guess- your first solid, real memory?” Bucky asked. Clint looked startled for a moment before he built back up his walls. “My first was about Steve. Captain Freakin’ America. But before he was all- buff. Punk’s lip was split by getting in yet another fight, and he had a hell of a shiner. Want to tell me what yours was?”

“Water balloons and throwing them at Steven Rogers, Captain America, randomly for… hours,” Clint said slowly.

Bucky smiled a little and he felt something in him relax. “It was your idea. I was having a bad day, and Steve had made you mad. And it sure as hell cheered me up until Steve finally caught up with us, drenched and looking like a drowned cat.”

Clint nodded and slowly lowered his hands. “I want it to stop. I don’t want… I shouldn’t have these-”

“Deep breaths.” Bucky took a step closer and Clint retreated back. “I know, it’s a lot. I didn’t like remembering everything either.” Clint stared at him in disbelief. “Before HYDRA got you, we were friends. We worked together.”

“Sniper bros,” Clint whispered.

“Sniper bros,” Bucky agreed. “I’m the closest you are going to get to understanding what’s happening to you. Some of these memories? You’ll lose them again, and they’ll come back, and it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Clint’s hands clenched before his body looked like it was going to give out. He stumbled back a few steps before he took a seat and held his head. Bucky glanced back at T’Challa before he walked forward.

“Don’t touch me,” Clint requested, his voice strained.

“I won’t.” As much as Bucky wanted to, it was something he was going to have to respect. “T’Challa, he helped me a few years back. His people are trying to help you as well. But there are rules.” Clint looked up, glanced between the two before he nodded. “The first is that you have to make choices. This isn’t HYDRA. You have some level of free will. You’ll have more freedoms as you make progress.”

“There is one thing we must do before you can move out of that room,” T’Challa said. “HYDRA controlled you through trigger words and we need to have them removed.”

“Oh yeah? And how is that done?” Clint asked, for a minute sounding more like himself than he had all three months. “Don’t say magic either, because I am fairly certain I hate that stuff.”

“Science.”

“Shuri,” T’Challa said, turning. “Please go back inside.” Bucky caught sight of Shuri approaching and shifted to get closer to T’Challa, edging himself between the Wakandans and Clint. The last thing he wanted was for Shuri to get hurt- Bucky was certain that would start a war.

Clint looked at Shuri before he hung his head. “I will not attack her. She was not on the list.”

“That is almost reassuring,” T’Challa said, glancing at Bucky. Bucky had no memories of a list, which meant it had to be something new.

“There is a way we can remove the trigger words, but it takes time,” Shuri explained. “It involved sitting in a chair that-”

“No,” Clint growled.

“It is not the same chair, it does not hurt,” Bucky said.

“No chair,” Clint said firmly before he looked up. T’Challa pulled Shuri in closer and Bucky held an arm out. Bucky knew that look in his eyes- that just under the surface rage he kept when backed into a corner on a mission. Clint’s face scrunched up and he slowly raised his hands again. “I’m not going to… I won’t hurt her. I  _ told _ you I won’t attack her. She’s not on the list.”

Bucky slowly lowered his arm. “That’s your choice to make. You don’t have to sit in the chair, but that means you are going to be confined into that room. You aren’t going to want that. Not when you learn more about yourself.”

Clint clenched his jaw and dropped his hands to his thighs. “I am done,” he said, a firm cut off point. He stood up and put his hands on the back of his head. He looked over to where the guards were starting to come out. “I apologize to the person I knocked out to steal the wristband from. I needed fresh air.” He waited until the guards got near him, his eyes flickering around the weapons, taking stock, before he walked.

“I need to talk to you about what you did to my computers!” Shuri shouted after him before she went to follow. Between Bucky and T’Challa, they took a hold of her arms to keep her back.

Clint’s steps faltered before he stopped. He turned his head back and raised an eyebrow. “All I did was turn off the lights.”

“They were not yours to turn off,” Shuri pointed out and Bucky watched Clint, ready to move if he did.

Instead, Clint shrugged his shoulders and there was a hint of a smirk. “Well hell, don’t make it so easy then,” he taunted before he started to walk. “I’m dumb but I’m not  _ that _ dumb.”

Shuri gasped and looked at T’Challa. “Brother!”

T’Challa looked at Bucky before he chuckled. “That exchange shouldn’t be as amusing as it was,” he commented.

“He smirked,” Bucky snorted. “Don’t take it the wrong way, Shuri. He sat around listening to you and Peter for hours that one day. Clint probably picked up on some things.”

Shuri scrunched up her nose. “I need to change codes. Make the systems Clinton proof,” she said, shrugging off the two men before she walked. “And now I have to solve the issue of removing trigger words by-” Her voice trailed off as she stomped her way inside.

T’Challa looked more amused once Shuri had walked off and patted Bucky’s back. “Improvements,” he commented.

“Improvements,” Bucky agreed. “I’m sorry for the trouble he caused today.”

“We  _ were _ warned that he likes to slip out of confinement,” T’Challa said through a smile as he walked. “I suppose it wouldn't be Clint if he wasn’t causing some form of trouble. Excluding the fights with you and Natasha- I would say so far he has been calmer than expected.”

Bucky dipped his head down, let go of a breath and his smile for a moment before he looked back up. “So… want to help me convince Steve that we have had a small breakthrough?”


	9. Chapter 9

It was another month before Clint started allowing Bucky and Natasha close for an extended period of time. He was still on edge for the first few minutes, he didn’t seem to want to talk about too much, but the fighting had ceased. Bucky became familiar with his non-verbal cues that he had enough social interaction and would make the first attempt to leave. It was by far an everyday thing, there was no set pattern to his moods on when he wanted to talk and when he needed to be alone. Sometimes they would wait days before initializing, sometimes Clint would ask for one of them by name.

Occasionally he would share an obscure memory, and Bucky was pretty sure he was testing their reactions to them. When neither of them seemed to do anything other than talk about them calmly, Clint tended to calm down. There was only one time that Clint seemed to be able to get right under Natasha’s skin enough to make her leave. He remained silent for the rest of that visit. The next time, Clint gave her a barely there smile before he looked away- Bucky was pretty sure that smile made Natasha’s month.

During that time, Clint seemed to interact a little more with Shuri and Ramonda. Bucky was surprised when he went for a visit and Shuri gave Bucky a devious grin as she was pulling on Clint’s hair, braiding it. Clint, for the most part, seemed to not be bothered by it. The moment Shuri left, however, he took every braid out of his hair, stared at the small bands before he glanced Bucky’s way. Bucky dug in his pocket before he held out one of his own. Clint reached up and took it before he tied half of his hair up. Ever since that day, Clint would pull half of his hair up to keep it out of his eyes.

In another month, the other Avengers made their rounds in pairs. Steve and Tony went in together with Bucky. Clint’s initial reaction was to retreat back, something Bucky hadn’t seen him do in several weeks. His fingers were twitching by his side as he listened to the pair, and Bucky was close to dragging them out because it was a motion Clint made when he was itching for a fight.

“You know, I can make you hearing aids,” Tony commented. “That way you have a larger pool to choose from.”

Clint looked confused and glanced over at Bucky before he looked back. “These work,” he said, the first words he had said to the pair.

“But they aren’t even purple,” Tony protested. Clint’s shoulders pulled back.

“I… do not understand,” Clint said slowly, his foot dragging back.

“Tony,” Bucky said calmly.

Tony rubbed his forehead. “Right. Well, when you want more, I’ll make them. I know what you like. I had made them for you.”

Clint looked at Bucky again, this time showing just a hint of nervousness. Bucky didn’t want to read too much into it- didn’t want to think maybe Clint had begun trusting him more than to keep the peace. Bucky glanced their way and Clint squinted.

“I… cannot remember. I’m sorry,” Clint said evenly, tucking his emotions back away as much as he could. Clint kept quiet through the rest of the visit.

Bruce had visited with Thor. The moment Thor walked into the room Clint had gone on high alert. It only took Bucky a few minutes to figure out why and asked Thor to leave the hammer on the other side of the door, away from sight. Clint relaxed his stance when the hammer was out of sight and Bucky tucked that thought away to discuss with Natasha and T’Challa.

Bruce had brought Clint several books to bide his time, setting them down near the door. Thor had brought Asgardian meade, which Bucky knew he was going to have to take away before Clint actually had any of it. The mood in the room seemed to alter based off of who was talking. Clint seemed more at ease with Bruce’s calming low pitch tones, and he would tense up when Thor began to get too excited.

The only time Clint spoke that day was when the pair were taking off to leave and Thor advanced. Bucky was about to step in before Clint forced himself to take a step back. “No touching,” he said with more bite in it than Bucky had heard in nearly a month. Thor had, thankfully, backed off and allowed Clint to calm down.

Clint looked wary as Bucky walked in the next week with America and Kate. America had an arm slung around Kate’s shoulders while Kate looked around the room. “Shit, Clint, this looks sad.”

“Princess,” America warned.

“What? He’s got a sense of humor,” Kate replied. “It’s so clean. I am assuming someone else does the cleaning because you are definitely not the type to live in a white world.”

Bucky was starting to regret telling Kate all the progress Clint had made. And then, unexpectedly, Clint let out a choked on laugh. It was short lived but Bucky looked over, surprised. Clint looked a little amused and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I had a dream about you,” Clint commented, focusing on Kate.

“Ew, Clint,” Kate said with a groan. “That’s just disgusting.”

“That’s what you said then the dog was licking from the same ice cream cone as me,” Clint said, his lips twitching up. “I can’t… remember your names. I can’t remember the dog’s name. But you were with me somewhere- I was beat to hell.”

“First, that was disgusting. Second, that’s because you thought it was a good idea to get into a fight with a dozen undercover HYDRA agents by yourself,” Kate said. Clint jerked at the mention of the organization, his hands balling up tightly. “Oh… right. That’s on the do not-”

“It’s fine,” Clint said through clenched teeth. By looking at Clint, Bucky knew it wasn’t okay. His breathing had gone a little less predictable and his hands stayed balled up.

“Do you want us to leave?” America asked. “I can kick a portal.”

“Kick a what?” Clint asked a minute, suspicious and confused.

America looked at Bucky at the same time as Kate. “Can I?” America asked at the same time as Kate asked if America could.

“Not in here,” Bucky said. “You have to be on the other side of the door.”

“Want to see a magic trick?” America asked, retreating back with Kate to the other side of the barrier.

“I… I don’t know how to respond,” Clint admitted.

“We’ll be back in a few weeks,” Kate said. “Stop dreaming about me.” 

In a flash, America had punched open a portal and they were gone. Clint stood fixed in his spot, his hands relaxing before he took a few timid steps towards the door. “... who are they?”

“America and Kate,” Bucky replied.

“The other Hawkeye and her… girlfriend?” Clint asked.

“Seems so,” Bucky answered. “Do you want me to leave?”

Clint seemed stuck on the question, staring straight ahead. He had an eerie calm to him, something Bucky hadn’t experienced yet and he wasn’t sure how to take it. Clint sighed and looked at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. When he looked back up, he looked just as unsure as he had.

“The… trigger word removal… does it hurt?” Clint asked.

This was the first time Clint had brought it up since firmly saying no to the process. Bucky shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt. It feels like… it feels like bad memories being pulled out. Simmering at the surface.”

“Do you know the words?” Clint questioned.

“I do not. I asked not to be told them,” Bucky admitted. “Most things they know about you I asked not to be let in on.”

“Why?”

“The less I know about what they did to you, the less I will screw this up,” Bucky said, trying to convince himself of it. Bucky couldn’t rightfully tell him that he was afraid of finding out and leaving Wakanda to start a war path. “Remember a few days ago when you woke up in a panic over that bad memory? The one with Phil?” Clint nodded hesitantly. “It will be like that. It doesn’t hurt physically. Shuri though- she takes it as slow as she can. She’s gentle about it.”

Clint started to pace, his fingers lacing behind his neck. Bucky watched him silently, giving him more space than what he typically needed. He didn’t want to hold his breath on this, but he was hoping it was a step in the right direction.

“What do you think?”

“You know you have to be the one to make this choice on your own,” Bucky answered.

Clint made a noise of frustration. “What if it becomes too much?” he asked.  _ Progress. _ This was what Bucky kept telling Steve to look for. Moments when Clint peeked past the Soldier, moments where his mind flipped to an older setting, and it was happening more often than not, even if Clint wasn’t his normal, bouncy self. He was there- he was just exhausted and wary of everything around him.

“Clint.” Clint stopped walking and turned to face Bucky. “I try to avoid these things because you have to decide who you  _ want _ to be. I don’t want to shape you into someone you don’t want to be anymore. But you can do it. You can handle it. In any shape or form you take, whatever version there is of you out there- all of them can handle this. You’ve been through worse.”

Clint nodded after a moment and dropped his hands, as well as his head. “I want out of this room,” he admitted.

“Then I think you know what you need to pick,” Bucky said.

That night, when Bucky pulled himself away from Clint, he took the longest shower he had taken since Clint woke up. He wanted to punch the walls and shout at how nervous Clint seemed, at how unsure of himself he was. Bucky was used to Clint having bad days, but he never got to watch the story of what caused his anxieties. 

All the while, there was nothing Bucky could do. He had promised himself that he would let Clint shape himself to be whoever he wanted to be, not influence him as much as possible. Clint had offered him that, when Bucky was at the Tower. Sure, he had been more himself than he was where Clint was currently, but Clint never forced him to think any certain way.

By the time Bucky was out, he was thoroughly exhausted. He opened the door and paused. “Natasha?” he asked.

“He’s getting better.”

“He’s getting better,” Bucky agreed. He sat on the bed before he sprawled on it, knocking his foot against hers. “If he goes through with the removal, we might lose him again. Not for long, but just enough where it’s going to be awkward all over again. He’ll be consumed by all the memories and we won’t see that side of him for a little bit.”

“How are you holding up with all of this?” Natasha asked. “You have been nothing but calm and patient. You can’t touch him and yet-” 

She let the words fall off, and Bucky knew what she meant. He couldn’t do a damn thing but talk, be understanding. It was maddening, having Clint so close and yet so far at the same time. He felt like in the end it was going to be worth every agonizing moment along the way.

“It hurts like hell but it’s better than nothing,” Bucky clarified. “I’d rather not think about it myself.” He pulled at Natasha before she caved and laid down curled around him. “How are  _ you _ holding up?”

“I think I am going to take a few days and find some HYDRA agents to shoot,” she admitted. “There’s always going to be HYDRA and AIM agents out there. I would say you could join me but I know you won’t.”

“You’re right, I won’t,” Bucky agreed. He sighed and rubbed his face. “Going to do it once you hear if he actually bites the bullet?”

“That’s the plan,” Natasha answered. “I don’t think I can sit around and watch that all over again. I’ve seen him with nightmares, but this is different.” Bucky nodded his head. “I hope you know I’m staying here tonight.”

“I hope you know I wasn’t above begging if you were going to try to leave,” Bucky answered. Natasha chuckled and closed her eyes. “Maybe if Shuri makes him wait a few days I’ll take off. I might actually miss my cat.”

“As in you really miss your cat.”

“I do,” Bucky grunted. “Stupid cat.”

“I miss Liho too.”


	10. Chapter 10

With T’Challa permission, Bucky brought Alpine back with him. Clint had decided to remove the trigger words and after an hour of sitting in the screening room, Bucky had to leave. Watching the process brought back too many memories, and watching Clint go through it made everything that much worse. The first night he was home in the Tower he was thankful that Alpine could be clingy at times because he needed something to keep him occupied.

It had been eight days since Bucky left Wakanda, T’Challa and Shuri both keeping him posted on Clint’s status. For what it was worth, nothing seemed to have changed day by day. Clint had gone back to being reserved, only talked when he absolutely had to. According to T’Challa, Clint was more touch avoidant than he had been, and Ramonda was taking it personally. 

“So what is the next step?” Steve asked when everyone joined up in a meeting room.

“Next step is once he is stable again, we allow him time out of his room, supervised to ensure his safety,” T’Challa answered. “We start instilling the trust again, the freedom to choose, until we can move him into a location like what James had. We believe he will do better there. He seems to have an issue with an assortment of… situations here.”

“What does that mean exactly?” Tony asked.

“I’ve noticed he is very hesitant around weapons,” Bucky answered. “When Thor came to visit and had Mjolnir Clint was tense. I have seen it with the staffs and spears as well.”

“He is also fairly adverse to the technology,” T’Challa added. “He won’t vocalize any of it, but we are picking up the cues. Shuri had asked him to leave the body monitors on after the sessions so she can make sure there are no negative impacts. We have seen spikes now that have led us to this point.”

“So here is an idea,” Steve said. Bucky looked over warily. “We move him out of Wakanda when he proves he’s not a flight risk and we move him to the Tower. Tony can lower the amount of tech he is exposed to.”

“Hiding the weapons is going to be the hard part,” Bucky pointed out. “Let alone if someone attacks the Tower, Clint will be in the middle of a bad situation, and we don’t know how he will react to it.”

“So here is a crazier thought.” Bucky turned his attention to Tony. “We move him to a place he has never been to. He can’t go to Iowa, there are too many triggers. And he can’t do the Tower because of the technology and weapons. Also- we are all there and last I checked, he isn’t our biggest fan yet. Too many of us still. So we move him off location, somewhere only a few of us know about, and let him recover there.”

“It’s a risk,” Steve said.

“It’s about as risky as everything else,” Tony challenged. “Collectively, we all know what’s best for birdbrain. Natasha and Bucky are probably the experts here. So I say we leave it up to them what they think, and we support that decision, and them, however they need us to.”

“He can’t stay by himself,” Natasha said.

“So we give him ground rules,” Tony said. “We tell him what freedoms he has, and what he doesn’t. He can pick who lives with him. Or we just tell him that he has to live with Bucky. Whatever.”

Natasha looked at Bucky. Bucky shrugged, trying to keep his calm while everything in him was buzzing. There was a lot of planning to do if they were going to pull this off. And there was a lot Bucky had to talk to Clint about if they wanted this to work. But the chance at almost finding a new normal outside of a clinical setting gave him enough hope to feel re-energized.

“How long do you think we have to prepare?” Steve asked T’Challa.

“I will ask Shuri, but I will guess a week, maybe two,” T’Challa said. “Until then, we will monitor his behaviors to make sure we are not taxing his mind and body. Once he leaves Wakanda, he will become S.H.I.E.L.D.’s responsibility. We will assist however we can.”

“I will discuss the plans with Fury and the rest of the team,” Steve said. “Tony can look for a place that’s not too far away from us, but enough to give him distance and privacy.”

“We’ll look at things on this end,” Natasha said.

“Think I can talk to Legolas while I’m here?” Tony asked. Natasha raised an eyebrow. “I’m making him spare hearing aids. We know how terrible he is at losing them, breaking them, or not charging them. I want to give him a choice in what he gets.”

“He should be back in his unit,” T’Challa said. “If you’d excuse me,” he added, giving a small head nod before he left the room.

Bucky leaned back and looked around. The whole group seemed to have shifted their demeanor now, suddenly given a task that they each could help with. Bucky locked eyes with Steve for a moment before he nodded and got up.

“Natasha, want to come with Tony and I to Clint’s?” Bucky asked. Natasha nodded and stood up, as did Tony. “We’ll be back shortly.” The three of them walked out of the room and down the hall. “Don’t get your hopes up that Clint will respond- he’s been quiet lately from what I hear.”

“As long as he knows I brought it up and was giving him options, that’s all that matters, right?” Tony asked. “I think this will calm Steve down too, take the edge off. Nothing about this has gone quick enough for him.”

“Steve is always anxious for things to get better,” Bucky admitted. “Which reminds me- once we do move Clint, we need to make a schedule for when people can visit. Some structure will do him good.”

“Until Barton pulls a Barton and decides structure is for losers,” Tony said with a grin. Bucky couldn’t help but smile back. Clint never was one to keep to a strict schedule before- part of him wondered if that part of Clint would come back out, or if he was going to stay regimented to a schedule.

Bucky tapped on the door before he walked in first. “Hey Clint- Tony came with us today.” Clint looked up from his bed and sat up, swinging his legs around. He had bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep. Bucky remembered being desperate enough to evade the dreams too.

“Hey birdbrain,” Tony said, all smiles.

Clint frowned for a moment before he tilted his head. “Bird brain?” he asked.

“Tony likes his nicknames for people,” Natasha answered, trying to keep it simple. Clint nodded as he mulled the information over.

“Anyway. I know we talked about this before, and you didn’t seem to care,” Tony said, taking a few steps forward. “Can I sit?” Clint looked at his bed and Bucky waited in silence. After a moment, Clint moved, making space for Tony while angling himself for an easy exit. “Thank you,” Tony said, crossing the room then stopped when Clint started to tense. “You sure you are okay with this?” Clint took a deep breath and held it for a moment before he nodded, letting it go. “Alright. Just remember-”

“You’re delicate,” Clint whispered. “Like a goddamn butterfly.”

“Damn straight,” Tony grinned. “You remembered the inside joke.”

“No. Kinda. I don’t- sit.” Clint glanced at Bucky for confirmation while Tony took a seat. Bucky gave him his best reassuring smile.

“I want to make you more hearing aids,” Tony said. “However, I think we need to do a hearing test to make sure you aren’t struggling to keep up. Bruce, you remember Bruce? He would be the one running the test.”

“I remember Bruce,” Clint confirmed.

“He is perfect for the job,” Tony admitted. “Anyway, Bruce would run the test and in a few days, maybe a week, you’d have a wider range of hearing aids you can use. Something other than these.” 

It was weird watching Tony treat Clint in a different way. Bucky remembered all the snarky comments, the taunts and teases, all of it friendly. But they rarely ever had softer moments like this. For the most part, Tony usually reserved those softer moments for Steve and the kids it seemed.

“Why?” Clint asked.

“Because you need choices,” Tony answered. “And I can’t say anything else because Bucky bear will-” Bucky watched Clint start to tense back up and he frowned. Tony, however, seemed unaware. “So! Think of some colors or designs and we’ll take it from there. Otherwise, I’ll just make whatever.”

Bucky almost got the words out before the action happened. Tony reached out and patted Clint’s knee and that was all it took. Clint grabbed Tony’s arm and twisted it, pulling him up as Clint made his way to his feet. Tony shouted in surprise and his feet scrambled to keep up when Clint marched him back towards a wall. It was a rule long established, and it was the first time in awhile that someone had forgotten.

“Clint, stop,” Natasha said, getting in the middle.

“Don’t. Don’t touch me,” Clint hissed.

_ You don’t get to hurt Tony _ . Bucky had to let that process before he looked at Natasha, pulling the two apart. It had been awhile since he heard Natasha speak in Russian. Clint stepped back, his hands up, but his eyes were hard. Bucky joined Natasha’s side, keeping Tony behind them both as he tried to process what exactly just happened.

“I’m sorry, Clint. I forgot,” Tony apologized. “I know you don’t want to be touched. I’m sorry.” There wasn’t a trace of anger in his tone, and he kept his voice even.

Clint backed himself up to the wall before he started shaking, his hands balling up. “On the list. I can’t-” He looked frantically between Natasha and Bucky, terrified. “Get out.”

“Clint,” Natasha said, pleading.

“Get out!” Clint shouted.

“What happened?” Steve asked, rushing into the room.

Clint looked over at Steve before he glanced at Bucky, Tony, and Natasha. No one seemed to want to be the first to speak, everyone still shocked at what had just happened. Bucky opened his mouth to say something to Steve before he caught sight of Clint’s hand and a small trickle of blood. Clint’s face scrunched up and he leaned back, knocking his head sharply against the wall behind him.

Bucky ran and pulled Clint away from the wall before he could do it again. Clint shouted again and doubled over before Bucky felt him trying to link his foot behind Bucky’s. Bucky kept moving them, making sure he allowed Natasha plenty of time to convince Tony and Steve to leave the room so no one would get hurt.

“Let go of me!”

“Not if you are going to hurt yourself,” Bucky said. He did a quick glance when they spun around, Clint trying to get the upper hand before Bucky put the brakes on them from moving. “No one is in the room now. If I let go, you need to calm down. Are we clear?” he asked. 

It took a minute or two before Clint’s body slowly relaxed enough where Bucky untangled them from each other. Clint stumbled a few steps before he touched the wall and turned, sliding down so he could sit. He pulled his legs up and hung his head, his fingers tangling in his hair and tugging.

“I’m not safe,” Clint whispered.

“You’re healing,” Bucky answered. He walked over and sat, giving them both space from each other. “Mistakes are going to happen. Tony wasn’t mad.” Clint shook his head, his legs bouncing. Bucky wanted to reach over and pull him into a hug, tell him everything was going to be okay, but he knew where that hard limit was. “The list. Tell me about it.”

“No,” Clint said firmly.

“Okay, tell me what your goal was before you broke out,” Bucky suggested.

“No,” Clint answered with the same intensity.

Bucky sighed and looked away. Clint never was much on talking out his issues in the first place. The problem was, he couldn't figure out where his mind set was exactly, which angle to take. And his legs were still bouncing, which was his only indication that he was further from the soldier side than he was to it.

“Why do you kill those people on base?” Bucky asked.

Clint was silent and Bucky didn’t press. He looked down at his hands, picking at the dead skin. “I wanted the pain to stop,” Clint said quietly. “I didn’t want to comply, to be stuck in the chair. I didn’t know- I didn’t know by not complying I would remember things. They made the mistake- they thought they had me. They slipped.” Bucky looked over at his haunted expression. “I want to kill them. I want to kill you. I know I should, those were my orders.”

“Everyone has been on the list?” Clint nodded before he looked down. “What do you remember about being there?”

Clint swallowed hard and looked up, scanning the ceiling. He took a deep breath. “Training. All the training. All the pain. All the… the-” Bucky watched as he struggled to come up with what he wanted to say. “I fought. I fought hard but I don’t know what I fought against or why. I know I deserved the pain because I wouldn’t comply.” Bucky fought against his instinct to both pull Clint closer, and the need to get up and start that war path. “I know I was unmade and made, and I don’t know why but I know-” He made a sound of frustration.

At least with him talking, Bucky could almost pinpoint where Clint was mentally. He could understand the exhaustion and the lack of sleeping, the need to not talk about it. He knew that until Clint could sort things into a timeline his mind would be racing, a jumbled mess of memories with little to no context behind them. 

Clint pulled his hand up and bit his thumb. “Why are you doing that?” Bucky almost reached out to smack his hand down and away. He did know one thing through the action- Clint reached, or passed, his limit for the day and was trying to push past that; Bucky couldn’t figure out why he was pushing hard yet.

“Pain makes me think clearer,” Clint answered. “Pain stops me from hurting all of you when I can think to do it. I don’t like it, but it’s what I’ve got.” He cast his eyes up to the ceiling. “I’m not well.”

“You are healing,” Bucky repeated. “It’s a long road, Clint. It’s not an overnight fix. Removing triggers doesn’t erase certain things they instilled in you. It only takes away people’s capability to use you, to force you to comply.”

“Why?” Clint asked harshly, his emotions lashing out. “Why is no one forcing me to comply? It would be easier.”

“That’s not what we’re about,” Bucky answered. He knew he needed to keep his mouth closed, not overshare, but the pained expression on Clint’s face made Bucky want to fix it. “Back when I was new to the team, still unstable, unsure, you were one of the few who gave me a chance early on. You made it so that I could be someone new without having to live up to expectations.”

“You are repaying the favor,” Clint summarized, and while the pain was still there, the emotion had dropped from his tone.

“It’s more complicated than that, but yes,” Bucky answered. “You had every reason to be terrified of me, to keep distance, and yet you made sure I knew people were around, willing to help. You helped Natasha too. You are a good man, Clint. You are just going through some awful shit.”

Bucky looked away when he heard Clint sniffle, trying to give him an ounce of privacy. There was so much more he wanted to say but he wasn’t sure what would push the boundaries. Instead, he made it to his feet before he held a hand out. Clint looked up, wiped the tears away, and grabbed his hand, accepting the hand up. They both let go quickly, breaking the contact.

“You need to rest,” Bucky said. “Just don’t hit your head, okay? No concussions or cracked skulls. Just… breathe.”

Clint gave one nod. “Tony… tell him I am sorry,” he said, looking at his feet.

“I will,” Bucky promised, tucking his hands into his pockets before he left. “See you tomorrow, Clint.”

When Bucky left, he met Natasha in the training room, and they sparred for what was close to three hours. They didn’t talk, only worked out their stress, and Bucky hadn’t realized just how much stress he had built up over the last half a year. It seemed like Natasha was much the same. Bucky didn’t care how many times he ended up on the mat, didn’t keep track of how many times Natasha did- all he focused on was breathing through it.

Natasha was the one to call it. They both sat down at the edge, drinking water. Bucky looked over at her and gave her a weak smile, trying to be encouraging. Natasha offered one back before she leaned over against him. He wrapped an arm around her and took a deep breath. 

When or if they went through with the plan on moving Clint from Wakanda, they were going to have to find a way to work out the stress, both of them knowing well that it would boil over. Which then brought on the thought that Clint was going to need the same. He was going to have to text Tony and Steve, ask for something they could use because yoga and stretching would only get them both so far. And with Clint under a “no weapons” policy, there wasn’t going to be any shooting.

“It’s going to be okay,” Natasha said softly.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bucky echoed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a mention of past child abuse in this chapter about halfway through.

Bucky waited five more days before he visited Clint again. He had gone the next day to his room and Clint promptly requested that he leave, so he did. The days after that were much the same as Clint and Shuri worked together. Bucky took the time to observe, watch for cues and triggers, anything that he could find in Clint’s behavior that would tell him when Clint had enough.

On day five, Clint didn’t have an appointment with Shuri. She had given Bucky the OK, stating the triggers had been removed. Clint still reacted to the words, flinched away, but there was no violent reaction, no hitch in his system or a dull look behind his eyes- nothing that told them he would comply with orders should they be given.

“You want to be the one to tell him?” Natasha asked.

“I want us to be the ones who give him a choice,” Bucky answered. “I’m not going to force him to stay with me.” Natasha opened her mouth. “No. It’s okay. I thought about it. Clint needs to make choices and be with those he’s comfortable with. If he thinks he’d be more comfortable with you, then he needs that. I can… wait.”

“You really enjoy putting yourself through hell, don’t you?” Natasha asked.

Bucky couldn’t tell her just how right she was. He would have rather HYDRA gotten ahold of him again before they ever took Clint. If he could go back in time, he would have given anything for that to happen. If Clint didn’t want him around while he worked things out, Bucky would do it. There was nothing that Bucky wouldn’t do if it meant Clint would be better.

“You tell him. I’ll sit by idly,” Bucky answered. “You know you can come as often as you want… to visit.”

“Within respected boundaries,” Natasha agreed. “I talked with Steve- they want Clint to see a therapist and everything.”

“Well that should be a disaster,” Bucky muttered.

“We’ll see how long it lasts,” Natasha agreed. “Other than that, Tony thinks he might have found a place. It’s within four hours of the Tower, it’s pretty secluded, in the woods and away from everything. He said it will take him a week to set up barriers Clint cannot cross- S.H.I.E.L.D. wants him to wear a monitor.”

“Oh, you are going to have a great time explaining all of this to him,” Bucky said.

“Honestly? I cannot wait to see how long it takes Clint to find a way to cheat the system,” Natasha said fondly. “He’s going to pick you.” Bucky looked over at Natasha. “I see it, every time we are with him. He’s drawn to you. He looks to you for reassurance.”

“I’m sorry, Nat,” Bucky sighed.

“Just make sure you tell him I was his first best friend,” Natasha answered smoothly.

“He’ll remember that,” Bucky promised. “Alright… let’s do this.”

Natasha tapped on the door. “Just us today,” she greeted. “What… did you do?”

Clint looked up, both of his hands bandaged heavily, spots of blood on his clothes. “I punched a wall a few times after digging my fingernails in didn’t seem to help,” he explained.

“Why do you feel like you had to do that?” Natasha asked. Clint stared at her then looked away. She waited a few seconds before she shrugged it off. “We need to talk to you about a change that will be happening.”

“Can we go outside?” Clint requested.

Natasha looked at Bucky. It wasn’t something Clint had asked for yet- he had only escaped outside once, for a breather. Bucky wasn’t sure what the rules were on Clint leaving his room yet- it wasn’t something that had come up in conversation.

“Clint, do you want us to leave?” Bucky asked.

“No. I just want to be outside,” Clint answered as he looked back to them. “I know the answer is going to be no. It’s okay.”

“We can go ask T’Challa,” Natasha said. “We just want to understand why.”

“I’m suffocating.”

Natasha nodded and walked out of the room first without another word. Bucky said they would be back as he followed her. “What the hell does that mean? Does that mean something to you?” Bucky asked Natasha, falling in step with her.

“No. It wasn’t a habit I’ve ever known him to have. Whenever he was stressed before he always went to the range, or laid on the couch and watched Dog Cops,” Natasha explained. “He never wanted to go outside because he felt like he was suffocating. Does you know anything about that?”

“I do, which is why I don’t know how to process it,” Bucky answered. “Clint and I would sneak out of the building sometimes because I felt like the walls were closing in on me. I don’t know if he is picking up on memories and falsely applying them, or if it’s a part of Clint we never knew. You knew him first.”

“Maybe if we can get him outside we’ll find out,” Natasha answered.

It took a lot of convincing in order to allow Clint out of his room. According to Okoye, Clint had shouted out in his appointment the day before and a guard took that the wrong way. After Okoye split the two up, Clint had turned and punched the wall several times. Okoye smiled a little proudly when recounting the event, praising Clint for only moving to disarm the weapon and holding the guard at bay until Okoye could step in. However, that made everyone on edge about letting him have more free range. In the end, T’Challa decided that as long as Clint stuck close to Bucky and Natasha, he could leave his room for an hour or two.

“Alright, let’s go,” Natasha said, tossing a bracelet at Clint. “Ground rules- you need to stay near Bucky and I at all times. No running off. If at any point we feel like your health is in danger, you have to follow us back inside. If guards are called, you need to step down.”

Clint looked at the bracelet before he clumsily put it on. Bucky almost offered to help him, but thought better of it. He nodded and stood up, holding his hands behind his back as they left the room. It seemed as if he was holding his breath the whole way out of the building, as if he were waiting for this to be a trick. Bucky looked at Natasha, who gave him the same look- it was slightly heartbreaking still that he had come this far and yet there were still those moments of doubt.

Once outside, Clint let go of his breath and seemed almost too eager. He looked like he was a man on a mission, barely able to contain himself from running. That’s when they came across a patch of brush on the side of the path and Clint practically threw himself in, collapsing down so he was laying on his back. Natasha stopped and looked at Bucky, who could only shrug.

After several minutes, it was clear that Clint wouldn’t be budging from the spot. Bucky was the first one to cave and found himself sitting within easy range of Clint. It took longer for Natasha to allow herself to sit in the patch as well.

“Okay Barton- what is this?” Natasha asked.

“A memory,” Clint answered, almost in a dream-like state. Bucky watched his face and his heart felt like it could explode from joy. Clint’s eyes were closed and there was a hint of a smirk on his face. In this light, Bucky could trace the path of freckles on his cheeks and his nose. “I did this once. A long time ago. I would hide in the fields because it felt safe. I hid in the cabinets too. It’s been longer since I laid in a field I think.”

“When you were a boy?” Natasha asked.

“Either way he would beat me so why not enjoy the warmth of the sun while I could?” Clint answered so casually. It wasn’t that Bucky wasn’t aware of Clint’s childhood, but that didn’t mean he liked hearing Clint discuss it so flippantly.

Bucky wondered just how many memories had come back, what all Clint was hiding from them. None of the memories he shared seemed to hold a logical pattern- they seemed to be sporadic, triggered by something around him, or a need to feel secure. It seemed like all the important things, the more recent things, were still gone unless Clint was hiding them.

“Clint,” Natasha said softly. She laid back and Bucky slowly followed suit. “In a week you will be leaving Wakanda and that room. We are moving you to a secure location where you will continue healing until you are ready to come back to the Tower to live with all of us again.”

“Is it because of the guard today?”

“No. It’s because we know this place is too busy for you. Too much technology, too many weapons,” Natasha answered. “You will have to wear a monitor, and S.H.I.E.L.D. has decided they want you to see a therapist twice a week.” Clint only nodded. “You have to pick who you want to stay with you though. Bucky or myself. Either way, whoever doesn’t live with you will be visiting often.”

“Why am I picking?”

“Because you need to keep making choices for yourself,” Natasha answered. “You don’t have to make the decision today. However, Bucky and I both need time to pack. So you have three days to make it in.”

Clint opened his eyes and looked to his sides to check on them before he looked up at the sky. Bucky could see the wheels turning as he seemed to enjoy the sun. Clint took a deep breath and stretched his arms and legs out. Bucky was certain that he was done talking for the moment so he didn’t push.  _ Maybe we should have done Iowa _ he thought, thinking maybe laying in the fields was something Clint wanted to do. It would have made everything easier if he would just come out and say it.

Natasha, Bucky, and Clint laid there for nearly an hour. After stretching, Clint hadn’t moved a muscle, even when people passed by and greeted them. Bucky figured he was lost up in his head more, working things out. T’Challa looked pleased when he walked by, nodding his head to Bucky in passing before he went back to listening to one of his advisors.

It was towards the end when Bucky noticed that he had been wrong. At some point, Clint had moved one arm, just enough so that his pinky was laying on top of Natasha’s. He caught Natasha’s attention and gave her a bright smile. Natasha nodded, but she looked far happier than she had in years.

“You’re staring,” Clint murmured, sounding like he had fallen asleep at some point, even just for twenty minutes.

“Sorry,” Bucky said before he sat up fully. “We should head inside.”

“Can I have a moment alone with Natasha?” Clint asked. “I won’t move. I just… want to ask her something.”

Bucky glanced at Natasha, making sure she was okay with it before he got up. “Sure,” Bucky said, walking a few yards away to give them some privacy.

From his spot, he could barely see the two of them. Clint had kept his promise, not moving when Bucky had left. Natasha, however, rolled onto her stomach and was watching Clint. Bucky looked away and tried to focus on something else. If anything were to happen, Natasha would shout and Bucky could be on Clint quickly. It would take work, but Bucky could overpower Clint if need be. Something told him that he didn’t need to though. There was a new calmness that settled when it came to fighting.

There was a large part of him that hoped they were talking about the change of scenery and Natasha would encourage Clint to pick Bucky. The thought of being close to Clint but not able to see him every day was agony, a form of torture he knew he would put himself through if he had to, if it meant Clint felt safe. It was already torture enough to be this close to Clint and not be able to touch him, comfort him when he was having bad moments. But it was enough to wake up and know that he could at least see him.

Natasha was the first one to her feet, Clint slow to follow. Bucky watched her brush away a few tears. Clint followed her onto the path and over to Bucky. “Sorry,” Clint whispered as they walked. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Not your fault,” Natasha answered, and Bucky saw her guards building up. Bucky glanced at Clint, his face unreadable at this point. “Can I tell Bucky?” she asked. Clint replied with a shrug. “He was trying to piece together some of his memories he had about us.”

“Budapest?” Bucky guessed.

“That came up,” Natasha answered, looking past Bucky to Clint. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“That’s alright, I don’t need to know,” Bucky answered. “Did you at least have a good time outside?” Clint nodded, falling quiet yet again. “I’m glad. You’ll have to do it more often when you leave this place.”

They escorted Clint back to his room in silence, taking the bracelet away once he was inside. Clint looked at them both, nodded, then went to his bed and sat down. Natasha lingered a moment longer than Bucky had and followed him to the hall.

“He is picking you,” Natasha said when they got down to their rooms. Bucky stopped and leaned against the hallway. “He wanted to tell me personally he is picking you. He said if something bad were to happen, if he slipped, you have a better chance at taking him down than I do.”

“He realizes how terrifyingly good you are, right?”

Natasha nodded and leaned against the wall opposite of Bucky. “He knows. Or he says he does. He also said that you have a more complete serum than the Red Room had, which gives you an edge.”

“He’s worried about hurting people,” Bucky said and Natasha nodded. “What else?”

“He asked me why you both are so close- why you are bothering with him,” Natasha continued and Bucky tried to keep his face neutral. “He remembers me, remembers Budapest, being on the STRIKE team. He said it doesn’t all add up, there’s blanks, but he understands why I am here. He still doesn’t understand why you are.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“That you both are just as close as Clint was to me,” Natasha answered. “I told him when he remembers, he’ll understand why you are working so hard. That it’s more than just being linked by being soldiers to HYDRA. He knows we are hiding vital details from him. I think he’ll be asking you about it shortly after moving.” Natasha took a deep breath and looked down. “There’s so much of Clint that is peeking through while not being Clint. I think I understand why Steve was such a mess when he got you back.”

Bucky nodded in agreement and looked down at his feet. “Do you think I should be honest about our relationship?” he asked. “I am worried he will think it’s a lie until he remembers.”

“I honestly don’t know.” Natasha looked at Bucky and gave him a small smile. “He is remembering more than he lets on. He’s thinking everything through. But I think telling him you both were married will make him more frustrated than he needs to be. If he can’t remember it, but knows it’s significant, he’s going to spiral down.”

Bucky nodded. “Then I guess… I better go back to the Tower and start packing,” he said. “Will you be okay by yourself?”

“James, please,” Natasha responded, rolling her eyes. “I know he hates weapons, but maybe bringing his bow isn’t a bad idea. No trick arrows.”

“Last thing I need is for him to putty me and takes off,” Bucky agreed. “I’ll think about the bow. And Nat? Thank you.”

Natasha nodded. “Whatever makes him feel better,” she said before she ducked into her room.

Maybe Natasha was right- maybe Bucky did enjoy bringing the pain and hurt to himself. But Bucky was willing to bet she was every bit in pain as he was, even if it were in a different way.


	12. Chapter 12

Bucky packed what he thought they would both need and worked with Tony and Bruce to get the rest of the things delivered. It took days of careful planning, a full day out at the new house to check the security feeds and the electronic barriers to make sure Clint would be tucked away inside a rather large perimeter. Bucky left their personal belongings near the door, wanting Clint to pick which of the three bedrooms was his. 

There was a stream nearby, and Bucky wondered how many fish he could catch if Clint was having a day where he wanted to be outside and active, or if Clint was having a day where being around Bucky was unbearable. They bought a wide variety of food, stored more in the basement freezers and pantries, and kept enough on hand to last a month at a time. The only thing they would need to buy was bread, because that was something Bucky wasn’t storing away because Clint hated the taste.

In a way, the home felt too impersonal. There wasn’t anything in there that was uniquely theirs and it made Bucky itch for something, anything. So they painted a single wall purple and bought accent pillows to match. They went overboard, buying several different comforters and sheets just so Clint had a few options, which was actually Tony’s idea. And, for some odd reason, Bucky wanted a damn fish tank so they bought one. When they had done events before, Clint mentioned how he liked the ones in aquariums because when he got bored he could just watch the fish- Bucky hoped maybe watching the fish in the tank would keep him calm on the bad days. Slowly, the house started to almost feel like home.

At the end of the week, Bucky made his way back to Wakanda to retrieve Clint and Alpine. What little belongings Clint had in Wakanda was packed away and he watched out of the doorway of his room as people walked by, plans coming together. Bucky was even taken back by all the noise. He collected Alpine first, tucking his cat away in his jacket before he walked to Clint’s room.

“What… is that?” Clint asked, staring at the Alpine sized lump. Clint’s hair was a sloppy mess, pulled up with strands falling out everywhere. If it was appropriate, if it wouldn’t have made Clint uncomfortable, Bucky would have snapped a photo of that moment, of that suspicious look and that messy hair.

“Alpine. I own a cat. He’ll be staying with us,” Bucky answered. Clint stared a little longer at the lump before Alpine’s head popped up and he jumped back. Alpine made a move to get out and Bucky zipped it further. “You like Alpine and Alpine likes you. You used to do contortionist moves and Alpine would help.”

“Help or hinder?” Clint questioned. Bucky grinned and shrugged. “They cannot agree how they want to get me back.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked.

“Half of ‘em think I should be tied up, knocked out. The other half think I’m not a threat anymore. At least not in the same sense as I was three months ago,” Clint answered.

“What do you think?” Bucky asked. “How would you like to be taken to your new home?”

Clint nodded a little and watched as more people passed by. “I want to be asleep for it. I don’t want to make people scared, nervous- give anyone a reason to fight.”

“Do you want to tell them that’s what you want? You want to make that decision?” Bucky asked.

Clint scrunched his nose and looked at Okoye as she walked over. “I hate this,” he said firmly. “I think I should have a say in the matter of how I am transported,” he said firmly, crossing his arms. “I want to be put under, sleep my way there.”

“We shall see,” Okoye said.

“No. This is what I want,” Clint said, digging his heels in. “Bucky, T’Challa, everyone said I have to make decisions. I am making this one. It’s not like it’s going to hurt me any. And I could use a nap.” Okoye raised an eyebrow, a barely there smile on her lips. “And because I don’t want to see your face doing that. Stop it.”

“Ah, I have missed you,” Okoye said and Clint replied with a glare. “I will tell T’Challa and Shuri you have made a personal request.” Okoye turned and walked.

“Who will be there when I wake up?” Clint asked, turning to Bucky.

“Who do you want to be there?” Clint groaned and turned, walking into his room. It was weird, seeing him nervous again. It was usually something fleeting, here and gone within five seconds. “There is a long list of people who are going to be on the plane ride to New York. Then it is a car drive to the house. That means us two plus up to two others. Is there anyone in particular you want to see when we get there and you wake up?”

“Natasha,” Clint answered. “And…” Clint hesitated, his eyes searching Bucky’s face. “She sat outside my door and sang to me this week. I didn’t want to see her- I didn’t want to see anyone. She sings in Russian. And then yelled at me in Russian when I wouldn’t eat.”

“How did that make you feel?” Bucky asked.

“Warm.” Bucky felt startled when Clint admitted to that, his jaw going lax. “Do I know Russian because of her?”

“You know a few different languages, but you learned Russian because of her. She learned sign language for you,” Bucky said.

“You learned sign language for me, too?” Clint asked.

“I did,” Bucky answered. Clint looked to be in awe for a minute before he carefully concealed his emotions again. “You sure you want me there instead of Natasha?”

“Yes.” Clint swallowed and leaned against the wall. “You are hiding something. And I feel like I should know what it is, I want to know, but it just won’t come out.” Clint looked down. “Today is a good day. One of the few. Today things make sense, and they don’t hurt. Not every day is going to be today.”

“No, but that will be okay,” Bucky promised. “Tomorrow when the dust settles we will discuss boundaries. What you need from me, what I need from you. We’ll figure out a way to make this work.”

“You two ready?” Natasha said, coming to the door.

Clint nodded and stood up. “You’ll come to the house with us?” he asked, taking the bracelet from Natasha.

“If that is what you want,” Natasha answered.

The flight was unremarkable. Clint was allowed to walk onto the plane on his own, his muscles tensing as he looked around. However, Clint sat where they asked him to, buckled in, and leaned his head to the side so that the small disc could be placed on his neck one last time. Within a few seconds, he was asleep.

There was more planning done on the plane, Fury patching his way through on a video feed so they could hash out any and all details. Clint’s therapist would be coming on Mondays and Thursdays, unless they needed to change the schedule for Clint’s wellbeing. Once a month they wanted Clint to come into town for a physical, make sure he is gaining back his weight properly and that there were no lasting effects from his time in HYDRA’s care. He was still required to take visits from people who knew at least once every two weeks, just as a way to get him readjusted to the team dynamics.

Bucky took notes, as well as gave Fury information he thought could help the therapist when coming in. The no touching rule, the instances he would find a way to hurt himself to clear his mind up, and the small cues that would let him or her know when Clint had had enough for the day. It was all things Bucky and Natasha knew by heart now, but it was the smaller things the team hadn’t learned just yet.

“We are going to remove the disc in an hour,” Bruce said. “Let him naturally wake up as much as we can. We are going to run the hearing test and physicals today if he will let us.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Bucky agreed. “Might as well get the stressful things out of the way now, and then let him settle into his new home for a few days before the chaos begins.”

They removed the disc, Steve, Bucky, and Natasha sitting the closest in case Clint woke up in a fit. About a half hour before they touched down, Clint opened his eyes, confused. He looked outside the window before he leaned closer to get a better view. Steve had asked him how he slept but was met with silence.

Natasha was the one who went on to explain to Clint what the plans were for the day. The physical with a doctor, the hearing test- Clint watched her carefully before Natasha switched to signing it. Bucky held a hand out and Clint reached up, taking his hearing aids out and handing them over. Clint signed back his agreement before he went back to staring out the window for the rest of the trip.

The process went smoother than Bucky anticipated. He dropped Alpine off upstairs in their old apartment before he joined the group back up. Clint was digging his nails into his palms throughout the process, but he had switched to an old pair of hearing aids Stark had made- BTEs that Bucky hadn’t seen in years. He complied with every request shot his way by the S.H.I.E.L.D. physician, and listened to Bruce, staring at the small hearing room nervously before he entered it.

By the time everything was said and done, a storm was rolling through and Bucky made the ultimate decision that they would have to stay the night. Tony seemed thrilled about the idea, and decided that it was going to be a family night. Steve seemed less thrilled by the notion that Tony wanted Clint to meet the family.

“He doesn’t like me,” Clint mentioned softly to Bucky. They were waiting on the communal floor, in the living room while everyone was busy ordering food and making sure Clint had a place to stay that was bare of anything that could influence him. Clint wouldn’t move away from the exit, which meant Bucky was stuck near the exit as well.

“Who doesn’t like you?” Bucky asked.

“Rogers.” Bucky was going to argue, but wasn’t sure which angle to take. “I don’t blame him. I don’t care for me much either.”

“Clint. Steve likes you. He’s just worried about bringing his children in to see you again.”

“Stark-Rogers children were not on the list,” Clint said. “They were on a different list.”

“How many lists did you have to memorize?” Bucky asked, trying to keep the conversation casual.

“Two. Kill on sight, bring in unharmed,” Clint recited. “Stark-Rogers children were on the second. Leverage.” Clint’s eyes flickered down to the ground, his jaw tightening. “Steve doesn’t trust me. Why does Tony?”

“Tony has more faith in the fact that you won’t hurt children,” Bucky said. “I suggest not digging your nails in until they bleed, though. It may scare Morgan.”

“She is the youngest?” Clint asked.

“She’s four,” Bucky answered. “Peter is seventeen, turning eighteen in a few months.” Clint looked at Bucky with an odd expression. “They adopted Peter when he was twelve. They adopted Morgan when she was born.”

“Lucky kids,” Clint muttered before the door opened.

“Just remember, we speak calmly, and no touching,” Tony said gently. “Uncle Clint doesn’t like to be touched right now.”

Clint’s eyes widened and his shoulders pulled back as he watched the four step off from the elevator. “Uncle Bucky!” Morgan cheered, shaking free from Tony and running. Clint took exactly two steps back in the time it took for Morgan to launch herself into Bucky’s waiting arms.

“Hey there, peanut,” Bucky said, hugging her. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you,” Morgan said, kissing his cheek and holding on tight. “Hi Uncle Clint.”

Clint looked a little suspicious, his eyes going from Morgan to Steve. Bucky knew he was hoping for some form of reassurance, but Steve hadn’t learned that yet. “Hello… Morgan,” he said hesitantly, afraid to make a mistake.

“It’s good to see you again, Clint,” Peter said, much calmer. “You are looking well.” Clint looked even more puzzled and looked at Bucky this time. “I-uh- that’s kind of the polite thing to say.”

“Right… hello, Peter,” Clint greeted. “I believe you should be graduating high school soon, correct?” he asked.

“Yeah. I mean, I have a lot of projects coming up. A ton really. I should probably start working on that-” Peter started to ramble on about his school. Steve’s face softened a little and Bucky turned to look at Clint. His lips were twitching, he’d open his mouth before he would close it as Peter continued on. Clint gave Bucky a helpless expression, confused on what was exactly happening.

“Hey Peter- turn it down a notch,” Steve suggested.

“Right. Sorry. Sorry Clint,” Peter said, his face turning red.

“It’s okay. You are happy. You should be,” Clint answered with a shrug. “I’m going to… uh-” he said.

“Here, come on,” Bucky said, passing Morgan off to Peter. “I’ll be back, peanut. Just going to show Clint around.”

“I can show Uncle Clint around,” Morgan protested.

“Maybe next time, cupcake,” Clint said. He touched Bucky’s back. “Maybe after dinner. Bucky…”

“We’ll be back,” Bucky said, walking towards the back where there was a bathroom. “You’re doing great.” Clint slid past Bucky, avoiding touching him, and went to sit on the toilet. His legs were bouncing again as he ducked his head, letting out his pent up energy. “If you want, you can always go to your room for the night. No one will blame you for it.”

Clint shook his head. “I don’t want to run,” he answered. “I just need a minute.” Bucky nodded and leaned up against the sink. “I shouldn’t be alone with them.”

“You won’t be, I promise.”

Clint nodded and started to crack his knuckles. He reached up and started fiddling with his hearing aids. It wasn’t the first time Bucky had noticed it that day. After going so long with the same style, Bucky wasn’t surprised that it felt uncomfortable to Clint. They sat in the bathroom for several minutes quietly.

“I think I’m okay now,” Clint said with a sigh.

“If you are sure.” Bucky stood up and waited for Clint to stand. Instead, he sat there longer. “Are you trying to convince yourself that you are okay?”

“Yes,” Clint answered. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, make them uncomfortable. Tomorrow it’s just us?”

“Tomorrow we head to the house,” Bucky answered. “If you want it to be just us, then it can be. Tomorrow you have to wear the ankle monitor too, when we get there.”

“I understand,” Clint answered before he got up. “Don’t let me screw this up?”

“Never,” Bucky promised. He wanted to press a kiss to his temple, but instead he opened the door and let Clint out first.

The rest of the night was tense for Clint and Bucky. There were a lot more people than he had been around for months, more faces that knew him, even if he only knew the surface of who they were. There was Sam and Rhodes, Pepper. Clint mainly stayed quiet and observed, his face paling and looking more exhausted than it had in weeks.

“Alright Morgan, it’s bedtime,” Steve declared, standing.

“But dad,” Morgan whined.

“No, you know the rules,” Steve said. “Hugs and kisses.”

Bucky watched as Morgan made her rounds, giving everyone in the room a hug and a kiss. She stopped in front of Clint, looking shy. Clint looked startled for a minute before he glanced at Steve. He held a pinky out to her and with excited eyes, Morgan took his pinky.

“Good night, cupcake,” Clint said, his voice straining.

“Good night, Clint,” Morgan chirped. She leaned in quick, kissing his cheek before she ran and jumped into Steve’s arms. “Okay daddy!”

Steve left with Morgan and the room stayed quiet for a minute. Clint hadn’t moved a fraction, an odd expression on his face. He tucked it away and stood up quickly. “Natasha, can we go?” he asked.

“Of course,” Natasha said, standing. “I’ll be back,” she told the others as she left with Clint.

It was a sigh of a relief moment as everyone leaned back and relaxed. Tony looked over at Bucky and offered him a weak smile, which Bucky returned. Sam was the one who started the conversations back up again, and soon enough, the room was back into a million different conversations.

When Natasha was gone for an hour, Bucky excused himself to go find the two. The AI system took him up to the floor Clint would be staying on for the night and Bucky hesitated before he walked off. The living room was empty, a few lights on to cast a dim glow. Bucky moved back to the bedroom and peeked in. He leaned against the door frame and bit back a sob.

Natasha and Clint were both lying in bed, all of the lights on. Natasha was still mostly upright but sleeping. Clint’s head was in her lap, his body curled around her. Bucky could see where her fingers had once been in his hair, carding through it as she did a long time ago. Bucky grabbed a spare blanket and covered them both before he dared to lean down and press a kiss against the back of Clint’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot! Half a day early because I have no impulse control. I hope you all have a fantastic weekend! =)


	13. Chapter 13

Four hours in the car with nothing but silence had Bucky on edge. Clint had woken up and decided he wanted to go to the house alone with Bucky. Natasha almost looked hurt, masking it fairly well under her neutral expression. The send off had been quick, Bucky thought maybe a little rushed. However, he saw the nerves building in Clint, and watched them melt away once they were on the road.

For the first twenty minutes, Bucky had remained quiet, giving Clint plenty of time to calm down. Then he tried to make small talk, but Clint remained just as quiet as he watched out the window as the rain drizzled down. His face was perfectly blank, not so much as a twitch on his lips when Bucky talked. He was so lost in his head that Bucky wasn’t sure if Clint was even hearing what he had said, or comprehended it. After twenty minutes, Bucky gave up.

“This is it,” Bucky said as they pulled into the drive that led them back to the house. Clint shifted, sitting up more, taking in the landscape. Bucky slowed down, allowing Clint the time to digest it. “We have four days before your first therapist appointment. Tony is also coming that day with new hearing aids. We’ll do that part first before therapy, just in case.”

Clint nodded and turned his head to look out of the front window before he looked at Bucky. “I have to wear a monitor.”

“I know, you are going to hate it,” Bucky sighed. “But it’s a condition of allowing you to live in a peaceful, non-clinical environment. Steve worked hard for this because they wanted to keep you in a cell on a S.H.I.E.L.D. base. But you have a large area you can cover. Three acres. Maybe in a month or two we’ll see if we can extend that so we can hike one of the state park trails.”

“Do we like to hike?” Clint asked.

“I like to hike. You liked to bitch the whole time,” Bucky answered drily.

“Well then- can’t have you expecting anything else then, can I?” Clint mused. He looked away again as Bucky parked the car. “Not going to be a good day.”

“That’s okay. You can have a bad day,” Bucky said. “Let’s go inside, figure out which room you want, and I will get out of your hair.”

Clint nodded and got out of the car, turning and looking around them. “What is the date?” Clint asked.

“April 17th,” Bucky answered. “Still spring here, and colder than hell. Can we go inside?” Clint looked like he wanted to argue. He took a deep breath and held his position. “Did you feel like you were suffocating again?”

“I’m sorry,” Clint muttered in admission, looking down.

“You just have to tell me these things, Clint,” Bucky pressed gently. “We could have pulled over and taken a breather. You are hard for me to read sometimes.”

“You would have pulled over?” Clint asked, looking over. It was one of those moments Clint was trying to decide if Bucky was telling him the truth or not. “What if I made a run for it?”

“I would have called Steve, told him, and chased your ass down,” Bucky answered. “Clint, seriously, it’s barely forty out. You refused to wear a jacket. I don’t want you to get sick. We need to go inside. When the weather turns, or you agree to a coat, we can come out.”

Clint huffed air just to watch it swirl in the cooler climate before he walked up to the house, Bucky taking the key out and walking in. “Alright, home sweet home.” He closed the door after Clint and locked it.

Clint looked around, his steps faltering every so often. Bucky watched him rub at his arm. “I like the purple. It’s soothing.”

Bucky let go of his breath and chuckled. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m more fond of the purple than I thought I was,” he agreed. “Come on, let’s figure out which of the three rooms you want. Then we can bring your suitcases up, get your bedding around, and I’ll start lunch.”

Clint didn’t argue as he walked upstairs with Bucky. He looked around each room and hovered in the hallway. He chewed on his lip, his eyebrows pulled in. He glanced at Bucky and Bucky only gave him a small nod. Clint looked through each room again, taking just as much time at it as he had the first time through before he decided. It wasn’t the master bedroom, with the large space and the personal bathroom. Instead it was the room that faced the front of the house. Bucky was trying to decide if he should be nervous that he would pick a room based around sightlines before he let it go.

“Your luggage is the purple set,” Bucky said, walking out. “I am going to start lunch, alright?”

“The monitor. I need the monitor,” Clint pointed out, following Bucky.

“It can wait,” Bucky said calmly.

“No. No, we promised. Steve promised,” Clint said, starting to fall into a panic.

“Okay, alright, we’ll grab the monitor,” Bucky said quickly. He walked to the kitchen and grabbed it off the table. “Want to tell me why you are this worked up?” he asked. Clint shook his head as he leaned over and rolled up his pants. “Alright. Well… here we go,” Bucky said, attaching it and pressing in the code Fury had alerted him to. The monitor clicked on and Bucky waited until he saw a red light flash. “All set.”

Clint turned without a word and started collecting his bags to haul upstairs. Bucky watched him the first time through before he sighed and got to work on lunch. It wasn’t anything hard. He just baked some chicken and made pasta and a sauce. He looked at a box, reading the instructions. It was a simple- mindless task that still left his brain too much capacity to think.

Bucky had it boiled down to Clint’s new obsession with not wanting to hurt anyone. Maybe he had thought that Steve would get in trouble should Clint not comply. Bucky wondered if maybe that was a way they trained Clint- if they made him fearful of others getting hurt because he wouldn’t follow through. Bucky sighed and shot off a text to Tony and Steve, asking if they had read anything on it.

Clint also admitted that it wasn’t going to be a good day. Bucky wasn’t sure if that was a result from overstimulation the day before, or if Clint remembered something he didn’t want to talk about. It was a lot all at once for Bucky to consider and he felt like he was going to get a headache trying to unravel it.

“Clint, food,” Bucky called up the stairs. 

He waited a few minutes before he called up again and listened in. There wasn’t any shuffling, no walking or moving around. It was pure silence. Bucky frowned and walked up slowly, more suspicious as he climbed. He checked Clint’s room first but it appeared to be empty. His heart lurched up to his throat and Bucky checked the other two bedrooms before he found him.

“Clint?” he asked. He took a step to the side before he saw Clint had removed his hearing aids. He stood in front of the window, his hands bracing him on either side as he looked out. Bucky tried to peek around, see if anything he caught his attention, but he came up short handed. Instead he tried to move as far from him as possible until he could line himself up in his peripherals.  _ Clint _ he signed twice before Clint seemed to snap out of his trance and notice.  _ Lunch is ready _ .

Clint nodded and dropped his hands before he left the room. He was on edge again, and if he wasn’t willing to talk about it, there was nothing Bucky could do to help him through it. Clint gathered up his food on a plate and sat down at the table with a groan. Bucky collected his food and set it down before he grabbed two mugs, filled them with coffee and came back.

_ What is this? _ Clint signed.

_ Coffee. You like coffee _ Bucky signed back before he took a sip.  _ If you don’t, we will get something else. _

Clint stared at the mug for a moment longer before he picked it up and took a sip. He paused for just a moment before he took a longer sip and Bucky could finally relax.  _ At least some things will never change _ he thought. Clint was less enthusiastic about the food, taking small bites here and there. He had done the same at breakfast as well, and Bucky wasn’t going to lose his patience over two meals. At least he consumed something, even if it wasn’t enough at the moment.

Clint emptied his mug and stared at it. Without a word, Bucky got up and took it from him, refilled, and sat back down. Clint watched the whole process before he signed a quick thank you and drank some more, slouching in his seat. Bucky finished his food, somewhere between happy that Clint was enjoying his coffee and nervous because something was wrong and Clint wouldn’t talk about it. 

_ Go rest up _ Bucky signed and Clint frowned.  _ You can have a bad day today. I don’t want to stop that _ . It was weird signing it and Clint seemed to agree, his frown not leaving. He held up a finger and dug his hearing aids out, putting them in and grimacing.

“Are they hurting your ears?” Bucky asked.

“Yes.”

“You keep sleeping with them in,” Bucky pointed out. Clint only shrugged. “What I meant to sign was that if you want the day to yourself, to think, you are free to have it. But tonight you might want to try to eat more food. Is there anything you want?” Clint shrugged again in response. “Was this too rich for you? Is it upsetting your stomach?” This time, Clint shook his head. “I’ll try something different tonight, less rich.”

“Thank you,” Clint said before he got up. “May I?” he asked, picking up his mug.

“Of course,” Bucky answered. He watched as Clint refilled his mug carefully and shuffled off to the stairs. 

That day, Bucky didn’t get too much done. He did the dishes, and sat on the couch with the television on, mostly for the noise. He needed to figure out what he could do around the house to stop himself from slipping into one of his bad days. He pulled out his phone and ordered a few puzzles, some How-To books, and a video game system.

Clint didn’t reemerge until it was time for dinner, Bucky having to retrieve him again since he kept his hearing aids out. He still looked like he was feeling miserable, but he had made an effort to eat a little more than he had at lunch. He had switched from coffee to water after he observed what Bucky was having, which Bucky was not going to comment on just yet- maybe in a few days, however, he’ll tell Clint that he can drink whatever he wants whenever he wants.

After dinner he silently insisted on doing the dishes, mostly because he stood at the sink and whenever Bucky tried to slip by him he would level a glare that managed to put Bucky in his place. Now that was a look Bucky was going to have to address at some point because it was something that made him nervous. Clint, however, grabbed onto his shirt when Bucky tried to walk away, and Bucky rinsed and dried the dishes as Clint washed them.

_ Outside _ Clint signed.  _ Jacket? _ Bucky nodded and walked to the closet, tossing a jacket to Clint before putting his own on. Clint didn’t go far, he found a chair on the porch and sat down. Bucky took up a spot near him and listened to the wind rustle through the trees.

“I wasn’t a good man,” Clint said. Bucky looked over, watched as Clint fiddled with his hearing aids. “I did… some terrible things.”

“When?” Bucky asked.

“Before,” Clint answered. “I was young. Thought I was making a positive impact. Stealing, killing, running crazy. Even as an agent it wasn’t all good.” Clint stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked exhausted. “I’ll never make up for that.”

“Nah, you have, you just don’t remember,” Bucky said. “You’ve done plenty of good things, Clint. You’ve sacrificed a lot of yourself to make sure that you have helped others.”

Clint nodded, refusing to look over. “You don’t know everything about me. Natasha doesn’t either.”

“That doesn’t change my stance.” Bucky turned in his chair. “What did you remember?”

“A lot,” Clint answered vaguely. “I don’t know what you know. I don’t want to ruin this.”

Bucky was silent for a moment. Whatever Clint was remembering, it was clear he wasn’t going to share it. “I’ve got a question. And you don’t have to answer it.” Clint looked over his way. “Earlier today you were very adamant about the ankle monitor. Is that because of a memory or because of something that happened with HYDRA?”

Clint scrunched his nose in distaste and Bucky was positive he wasn’t going to answer. “Life, both?” Clint said, unsure. “Both,” he said again. “What’s the blue? I keep seeing things in a weird blue.”

Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to touch that subject with Clint, especially with how vulnerable he was at the moment. However, Clint was trying, so Bucky had to as well. “Loki. It was a disaster from what I know. In the end, he was being controlled by an external force, found you, and used you for his plans. Last I knew you, you still didn’t like or trust Loki, but at least you stopped trying to kill him on sight.”

Clint nodded, clearly thinking. “I killed a lot of people within seventy-two hours,” he commented.

“You were forced to, you didn’t have control,” Bucky said. “And as you told me, when I said the same thing as you- if you aren’t in control, you cannot take credit for it. And I think I should because I did some impressive shit.”

Clint cracked a smile at that before he started to rub his face. “I hate this.”

“I know. It’ll get better though,” Bucky promised. “It takes time. On the plus side, Bruce thinks your recovery will go smoothly and quickly. You weren’t there for as long. You’re already remembering more than I had at this point. You just need help connecting the dots.”

“Bruce is the Hulk,” Clint said, and Bucky wasn't sure if it was a question at this point or a statement.

“Yeah, Bruce is the Hulk,” Bucky answered.

“Tell me something about him,” Clint requested, pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around them to hold them close.

Bucky had to think about it. Since coming to the group, Bruce and the Hulk’s relationship was a lot different than when Clint and Bruce had first met. There were a lot of memories to pick from. “A lot of times, post-mission, if Bruce went Hulk he would be the first person you would seek out. You got this gift, or talent, skill, whatever you wanna call it, that when you aren’t being a snarky little shit, you can make people feel better. You would sit with Hulk, talkin’ all soothing with him, until he broke away to Bruce. My personal favorite was the time Hulk completely destroyed Bruce’s pants, and you walked around in your Hulk boxers so that Bruce could wear pants. The media had an absolute field day with it, trying to decide if that was appropriate or not.”

“You are grinning like I did something,” Clint commented.

“Oh, you did something alright,” Bucky answered with a laugh. “Because the media made such a fuss of you out in public with boxers on, you held a mini-photoshoot and released a dozen photos online of you wearing only your boxers, supporting  _ all _ of the Avengers naturally, in different poses. Pepper about lost her shit on you, and you wouldn’t tell who took the photos.”

“Who took the photos?” Clint asked. Bucky watched the way his face was starting to light up just a little, his eyes starting to turn to that mischievous glint.

“Fuckin’ Tony,” Bucky replied, laughing more at the memory. “Bruce was so embarrassed by the whole thing and kept apologizing for having to take your pants in the first place.” Clint smiled a little more and looked at the ground. “Nothing compared to the time you were fighting back against their talk that the women on the team wore too tight of clothing, revealing too much, so you stitched your own sexy costumes to mimic theirs and went out on calls in them. Or the time you were in lingerie.”

Clint actually laughed at that and Bucky couldn’t help but to smile more. “So yeah- maybe you did a lot of bad things in your past. You were young and dumb, mad at the world and a hell of a lot more naive than you are now. But sweetheart- you did a hell of a lot of good too. And that’s just skimming the surface.”

Clint looked at Bucky oddly. “Did you just call me sweetheart?” he asked.

Bucky’s smile dropped in an instant. It was the first time he messed something up when he hadn’t intended to. “Yeah- we called each other names a lot. Mostly on the communication line to make everyone uncomfortable,” Bucky said, trying to cover his tracks.

“Oh God, did I call you Bucky bear?” Clint asked with a groan.

“Clint, you were a pro at a wide variety of pet names. Some were more sickening than others,” Bucky answered, happy that Clint took the cover for what it was. “I am pretty sure you made Sam screw up his shot once because you called me your Buckyboobear. Sam lost his shit mid-mission.”

“God, I am a weird person,” Clint muttered, though he was still smiling a little. “Maybe I’ll remember the good shit, next, huh?” he asked.

“Maybe. You need to give yourself a little slack though,” Bucky pointed out. “And stop wearing the hearing aids to bed. If something happens, I’ll wake you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint grumbled before he fiddled with his ear. “I do remember some good things I guess. It’s just… it’s just that I guess the bad things tend to, uh-”

“Weigh on your mind more?” Bucky guessed. Clint nodded and sighed, watching the air again. “I understand that. And sometimes even the good memories seem off or weird, especially if there is no context behind them. Or the bittersweet ones, like when you were laying out in the fields.”

“You said you were like me once, current? They called you the Winter Soldier,” Clint said. Bucky gave pause before he nodded. “Who was there for you through all of this?”

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment. “It was more complicated,” he answered. “I broke free and was on the run before I got caught again. Some of those memories I gained back by myself. I had a lot of questions and no one to answer them.”

“It had to be hard… doing that on your own,” Clint said, tucking into himself again before he stood up. “Thank you.”

Bucky stood up and followed Clint inside. “You’re welcome.”

Clint shrugged off his jacket and hung it up, stepping exactly two steps away to give Bucky space. “If I… do something will you not make a big deal out of it?” he asked nervously.

“Depends on what that something is,” Bucky answered. “Is it going to hurt anyone?”

“I sure as hell hope not,” Clint answered with a laugh. Clint shifted himself a little in his spot before he turned and hugged Bucky, albeit briefly. Bucky didn’t move for a moment before one arm came up and held his back. It was over much too quickly, Clint stepping out of it and looking awkward in his space. “I… I slept with Natasha.”

“I know,” Bucky answered, still stunned from the close contact.

Clint was playing with his hands. “I… just wanted to do that.”

Bucky smiled and shrugged. “You can do that whenever you want. I don’t mind if you hug me.” There was a laundry list of things Bucky wouldn’t mind if Clint did them.

Clint gave one nod and then looked at the stairs. “I’m going to-”

“Have a good night,” Bucky said.

For the first time in Bucky couldn’t say how long, Clint flashed him one of his classic lopsided grins. “Yeah…. Yeah, you too, Buck,” he said before he marched up the stairs.

Once Clint was gone Bucky let go of the heaviness he was feeling in his chest. He waited until he heard the upstairs shower turn on before he snuck to the basement and grabbed Clint’s bow case. He picked the practice bow up and looked at the targets hanging on the basement walls. 

_ Your stance is shit _ Bucky heard Clint nag in his head.  _ I swear you do that on purpose to make me twitch _ . Bucky most certainly did stand out of stance often just to watch Clint’s eye twitch, which was payback for all the times Clint neglected gun safety just to watch Bucky blow a fuse. Bucky changed his stance and took a deep breath as he lined up his shot.  _ Alright, nice and easy. _ Bucky let the arrow loose and watched it strike the bullseye. If he thought about it really hard he could still feel Clint drap his arms on Bucky’s shoulders.  _ Best feeling in the world _ .

Bucky knew how much that was a lie. The best feeling in the world was that first real hug from Clint after missing it for too long. He wondered if maybe Clint felt the same way.


	14. Chapter 14

It was hard to tell day to day what mood Clint was going to be in. More days than not he was still quiet and reserved. Bucky ordered him notebooks and had him write out what he was feeling. Clint didn’t take to the idea at first, but slowly came around. Bucky had a sneaky suspicion he had come around to do it because his S.H.I.E.L.D. therapist found out and Clint very firmly declined sharing his notebooks with her. There was the time Clint had left the notebook in plain sight and looked between Bucky and it very pointedly before walking away. Bucky didn’t dare touch it, and when Clint came back and saw that it hadn’t moved, he almost looked relieved, like a weight had been lifted.

On his reserved days, he mostly kept to himself, making his presence known when it was time for food. They were usually days he left his hearing aids out, not that Bucky really minded. Sometimes he would slip into the living room with Bucky and sit in a chair far enough away and watch the television- those days Bucky turned the closed caption on and was rewarded with a small smile. Other times, Clint would quietly ask if Bucky wanted to sit outside with him for an hour or two. Even if he didn’t talk on those days, Clint seemed to relax just being near Bucky, which Bucky tried not to read into.

Despite the reserved moods, there was more Clint peeking out every day it seemed, randomly sprinkled in moments that Bucky would promptly text Natasha about when Clint was no longer around to catch him in the act. There were times Clint would light up about something so small, and Bucky could bask in that sunshine smile for as long as it lasted. He missed how Clint could talk a mile a minute when he got excited about something. And then there was the quirky little dance that Clint did when he couldn’t seem to hold back his excitement; it was a little dance Bucky had seen before and was happy that it had returned.

The coffee sneaking was Bucky’s favorite part- Bucky had told him he was allowed whatever foods, snacks, drinks he wanted and yet Clint still snuck the coffee, increasing in frequency. He had discovered the video game system almost a month in and when he wasn’t able to sleep at night he crept downstairs to play that to distract himself.

Clint’s therapist lasted almost three weeks before deciding it was more productive to have Bucky handle him. Fury wasn’t impressed, although he admitted to knowing this was going to be the end result. Bucky tried to confront Clint about it, but Clint only shrugged and said he wasn’t a fan. Bucky had the lady’s number on his phone in case he ever needed help- it was going to have to do.

“What happened to Lucky?” Clint asked abruptly during lunch one day, a month into their stay.

“Lucky lives with America and Kate now,” Bucky answered. “They had a better set up for him. He’s old but can still be fiesty. Do you want me to ask them to bring him out sometime?”

“No.” Bucky frowned and Clint shifted in his seat. “No, he is old. Planes and long car rides aren’t good for him. I don’t want him to be uncomfortable.” Bucky nodded. “Do you think they’d send a picture?”

“Are you crazy? Kate is going to use it as an excuse to take a million selfies with the dog,” Bucky answered. “Do you miss him?” Clint nodded and shoved a fry in his mouth. “How long have you remembered Lucky?”

“A month,” Clint answered. Bucky gave him a scolding look. “I just… I thought he was dead. I didn’t want to find out he died. Today is a good day though. I figured I could handle it today if you told me he died.”

“I guess I should have brought it up sooner,” Bucky said slowly. “Maybe someday we can fly out there and see him. I am sure he’ll love that.”

Clint nodded and picked up another fry. “Promise you won’t get mad at this next one,” he said and Bucky was already preparing himself for the worst. He was expecting Clint to hit him with memories of them, together, and that he had been holding out for a long while because he didn’t want that anymore. “I found the bow in the basement. You were out cold- I timed your sleeping pattern. I waited until I knew you would be out for a few hours, dragged my things out, and shot a tree in the woods.”

“Wait. You- wait, what?” Bucky asked incredulously.

“I finally decided fuck it and I wanted to shoot,” Clint answered with a shrug.

“You’re not allowed to use weapons right now,” Bucky reminded him. “That was a rule, remember?”

“Some rules are stupid and I’m going to break them.” Clint was starting to get tense and Bucky needed to get this under control. “So you are more upset that I shot  _ my _ bow than you are at the fact that I have been timing your sleeping pattern and using that to my advantage?”

“No, I’m mad about that more now that you worded it that way,” Bucky admitted, trying to keep his frustration in check. “How long have you been doing that?”

“Two weeks.” It took everything in Bucky not to toss his fork down. “I just walked outside. Not a big deal. And I’ve only used the bow once. I kinda don’t have a glove here and there’s a scar on my finger and whenever I shoot, it rubs and it hurts like a bitch.”

“Clint, you can’t go walking outside by yourself. It’s dangerous,” Bucky said firmly.

Clint’s eyes hardened up and his jaw set in place. “Yeah, well, I think I can handle it myself.”

“No, you can’t. If someone comes-”

“I took down the base that was holding me, I can take down three or four agents,” Clint interrupted angrily.

“And what if one of them shoots you with something, huh?” Bucky asked, no longer able to hold back frustration. “What if they recapture you? Is that something you want? To go through all that shit again?”

Clint went very still, his eyes turning cold for a moment, and Bucky opened his mouth in an attempt to take it all back. “I shouldn’t have told you. I knew you wouldn’t understand.” Clint kicked back his chair and nearly ran up to his room.

“Clint, I-” The door slammed and it was a definitive cut off. Bucky sat in his spot for a few minutes, trying to calm down before he grabbed his phone.

“ _ James, _ ” Natasha greeted.

“Clint is testing his boundaries and I hate it,” Bucky admitted, feeling and sounded defeated as he got up to clean. “He’s timed when I sleep and for how long. He’s been taking midnight strolls by himself. And he has found his bow and he’s shot it.”

Natasha was quiet for a minute. “ _ So let him do it. Tell him he’s allowed to do those things. _ ”

“It’s not safe,” Bucky argued.

“ _ Neither is him sliding back into not trusting you because you don’t trust him _ .” Bucky sat down on the couch and closed his eyes. “ _ He’s not glass, Bucky. He doesn’t shatter when one thing goes wrong. He solves the problem and he handles it. He is itching for more freedom- if he hasn’t done anything to prove that he isn’t able to handle it, then I would be advising differently.” _ Bucky knew she was right, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “ _ I will be there tomorrow. We’ll all talk it out. Until then… fix whatever you just did that made you call me. _ ” Just like with Clint, there was a clear cut off when the phone went dead.

Bucky gave it a few hours. He watched a movie, cleaned the dishes, not that there were many. It was nearing dinner time when Bucky got up and walked upstairs. He tapped on the door. “Can I come in?” he asked. There was no response and Bucky sighed and walked back downstairs. He needed to do something so he headed outside then looked up. “Clint! Goddamn it! Get off the fuckin’ roof!”

“Like to see you make me, Barnacles,” Clint called down.

Bucky faltered in his steps and grunted. That was certainly a nickname Bucky hadn’t heard in some time, and he wasn’t quite sure he enjoyed hearing it again. He enjoyed the musical tone behind the words, he enjoyed knowing that Clint was likely smiling as he said them- but that nickname was one Bucky didn’t particularly care for. 

Bucky headed back inside, entered Clint’s room, and went out through the window, taking what he assumed to be the same path Clint had taken. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Getting a tan,” Clint answered, his eyes closed and with a smug smile on his lips. “It’s May. I don’t need a coat. And it’s above sixty.”

“Lord, help me,” Bucky muttered before he pulled himself up. “Show me the monitor.” Clint opened his eyes and gave him a questioning look before he pulled his pants leg up. “Have you removed it?”

“No. I stay in my boundaries like I am supposed to,” Clint answered.

“Good. Change of scenery then,” Bucky said, punching in the code and taking the ankle monitor off. “We’re going to town and eating out.” Clint stared at him in disbelief. “I talked to Natasha and she’s right. This entire month you have followed the rules- well, mostly. You are getting better, healing. So fuck the monitor, I want a steak that I don’t have to cook. Now climb your scrawny ass down because I’m hungry.”

“Hey Buck?” Clint asked as he got up. 

“What?”

“Eat a snickers, man.” Clint looked almost proud of himself. “Get it?” he asked, trying to get a rise out of Bucky.

“I hate you today,” Bucky mumbled as he climbed down and through Clint’s room.

“Nice try but you love me,” Clint shot back back and Bucky could hear the damn grin on his lips. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”

“I can change that. Natasha misses you,” Bucky said.

“Can we  _ not  _ bring Nat into this?” Clint asked with a grumble as they walked down the stairs.

“When did Natasha become Nat?” Bucky asked, grabbing his wallet.

“A few weeks ago. Nat, Natasha, Tasha, Tash,” Clint rambled off, following Bucky out to the car. “If she’s being rude I call her different species of spiders. She hates that.”

“When did I become Barnacles?”

“Today.” Bucky went to open the door and Clint pushed it back to close it. “We can’t leave. You know what.”

“I can leave whenever I want. And since I want to leave, but someone has to watch you, you get to leave too,” Bucky said, opening the door again just for Clint to close it. “Clint, I’m not in a good mood. This isn’t funny to me right now.”

“Can’t we leave tomorrow when Nat is here?” Clint asked, leaning against the door. He was nervous again and Bucky frowned. Slowly, Bucky crossed his arms and leaned a hip against the door and waited. His patience was being tested and now Clint breaking from, well, whatever he was breaking down from. Clint squirmed in his spot before he looked down. “I lied.”

“Excuse me?”

“I found the bow… I didn’t shoot it,” Clint answered. “And the furthest out from the house I went before I felt guilty was the front porch when you were sleeping. I didn’t go into the woods.”

Bucky took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “And… why would you lie about that?”

“I wanted to see how much you actually cared,” Clint answered. Bucky laughed and looked at the sky. “That was the first time you got angry or anything. You act just like the therapist lady. I guess I thought maybe I was remembering things different- that you weren’t…” Clint looked more guilty as he talked and started building up his walls again. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky opened his mouth and closed it again, trying to think. “I’m not sure if I should be mad at you right now or not,” he admitted. He blew out all the air he could from his lungs before he took a few breaths. “So you didn’t think I was who I am because I haven’t shouted at you?”

“You tiptoe around things too,” Clint added. “It’s like you’re afraid of saying something. It’s just… it’s confusing as hell. I’m already confused enough on my own.”

Bucky nodded and pocketed his keys. “Ask me something. Anything. I’ll answer it. One time shot for the day. One question.”

Clint looked more baffled and struggled to think. “Did we use to live together or something?” he asked as if he were afraid to know the answer. “Because I remember waking up on the couch with you more than once.”

“Yes, we lived together,” Bucky answered. “You always complained that I’m warm and when watching shows or movies the body heat would make you fall asleep. I’m guessing because it was easier to blame me for being warm than you for not wanting to sleep.”

“One more?” Clint asked.

“Only if I get to ask one first,” Bucky bartered.

“You always ask me questions, that’s not fair,” Clint protested.

“It’s an easy one,” Bucky promised. Clint squinted at him, trying to get a feel before he nodded. “Can we grab fast food tonight and then a real dinner with Natasha? I still don’t feel like cooking.”

Clint started to smile before he walked around to the other side of the car. “Are you sure we aren’t going to get in trouble for this?” he asked.

“I’ll tell Fury I tied you up and forced you to go if he has a problem with it,” Bucky answered, unlocking the doors and sliding in. Clint relaxed back and rolled the window down the moment he could. “Suffocating?”

“No. Just like the feel,” Clint answered. “You’d yell at me if I kick my feet out the window.”

“You’re damn straight,” Bucky mumbled before he threw the car into drive, turning it around. “No feet out the window. You know how dangerous that is?”

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you’ll tell me some boring statistic if I say no,” Clint said, a grin on his face. “Today has been a weird day,” he added, his smile turning down to something a little more calm, a little more reserved, but it was there.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky replied as he drove them to the closest town. “Can you promise me something?” he asked. Clint looked over at him, not too bothered. “Next time we talk about it. No lying and making us both upset, alright?”

“Want to explain to me the feelings?” Clint asked. 

Bucky shot him a glare, but Clint seemed like he wasn’t going to back down. “I know you are capable of handling yourself and different high stress situations, Clint. Trust me, I know that. But there will never be a time I don’t worry about you. And after we all lost you for so long I really don’t want to lose you again. So I worried because my head went back to the moment we lost you.”

“I don’t remember it,” Clint said, rolling his window up. “Well, no. I guess I do remember some of it. Bits and pieces. The things that hurt the worst I guess. But I can’t specifically remember the moment they brought me in. A lot of it is fuzzy.”

“That’s normal. Probably better that way.” Bucky pulled into the nearest town after a somewhat quiet car ride. “Alright… we got amazing choices here. Wendy’s, McDonalds. I can probably call into any of these restaurants and-” Bucky pulled into a parking lot and put his car in park. “Clint?”

Clint wiped his cheeks. “I’m fine.” He gave Bucky a shaky smile. “I’m happy. Who the hell cries when they are happy?”

“A lot of people,” Bucky said, reaching over and touching his leg lightly. For the first time, Clint didn’t shy away. “When Steve and Tony brought Morgan home you cried as you told her that if her daddies ever made her upset that you had arrows with their names on it. Lucky went missing you cried when we got him back. And don’t get me started on the time you cried because of the little girl dressed up like you for Halloween. So what’s got you happy right now?”

“I don’t know.” It was an obvious lie, but Bucky was going to let it go. “Can we get Chinese?”

“Chinese it is,” Bucky answered.

Clint was quiet for the next several hours. Bucky was surprised when he managed to eat his full meal despite his mood, and instead of going to his room Clint went outside and sat on the porch. Bucky gave him space to work out whatever he wanted to. Bucky occasionally looked outside, made sure he was okay, but he occupied himself otherwise.

It was getting close to ten at night before Clint wandered back inside. Bucky was sitting on the couch, reading a book. “Remember earlier I asked if I could ask one more question?”

“Should I make this question your question?’ Bucky asked calmly, turning the page before marking it. “What’s up?” He tossed his book down onto the coffee table and looked up.

Clint shuffled over before he leaned over the back of the couch. Bucky turned enough to look at him. Clint studied his face for a moment, leaning a little closer. Bucky couldn’t help but to look from his eyes to his lips before he looked back up. He could have sworn Clint had done so as well before he pulled himself back and gave Bucky a tired smile. “Do you think we can try that hike tomorrow with Natasha?”

“Sure, if Natasha wants to hike,” Bucky answered. “Anything else?”

“Nope,” Clint answered as he stood at his whole height and drummed his hands on the back of the couch. “I’m going to go shower and crash. Good night, Bucky.” He patted Bucky’s shoulder before heading upstairs.

Bucky watched him go and sighed. He picked his book back up, trying to get back into it before he tossed it back to the coffee table and picked his phone up. He knew what he wanted to do, but stopping Clint and confessing everything, every detail of their life didn’t seem like the best idea. But there was something there and Bucky couldn’t ignore it. He pulled out a pair of headphones from his pocket and plugged them into the phone before finding the video he wanted.

“ _ James Buchanan Barnes. I want to start this incredibly long and obnoxious vow by saying that you are stuck with me forever after the next half hour so if you want to- you better run now, _ ” Clint said on the video. He wore the biggest smile on his face and Bucky could remember the way Clint’s hands were shaking during the ceremony. “ _ I know these things are supposed to be taken seriously so… here’s my best attempt. Buck, I vow to always love you, even when you are making me participate in cardio day. _ ” Bucky smiled and sank down in his seat a little more. “ _ I vow to cherish you, even if you talk in your sleep, and when you turn over it’s like you purposely slap your hair against my face. I promise to respect your decisions, even though your plans suck just as much as mine half the time, and that no matter what- I’ll always find a way to tell you how I’m feeling even if the world feels like it’s falling about. Through thick and thin, no matter what, you will always be my better half, and there is nothing that is ever going to stop me from coming home to you. I love you, Bucky, more than you will ever know. _ ”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a bit of violence and the mention of blood. Nothing is overly graphic, but its there.

“Tasha!” Clint shouted, running out of the house the moment she pulled into the drive. Bucky blinked and got up, following him out. All he had really seen was a flash of blond hair as Clint darted by. Clint was nearly at her as soon as she closed the car door. “Tasha!” he said again, throwing his arms around her.

“Hello, my hawk,” Natasha said. She looked straight at Bucky and mouthed  _ what the hell _ while she hugged him. “You seem to be in a good mood.”

And for what it was worth, Clint was. That morning Clint had shooed Bucky out of the kitchen and made breakfast. It was the first time he asked if they could listen to music and he hummed along with the songs. Bucky had been certain that today was going to be one of his quiet days, and felt like he had been thrown through some portal to a different dimension when it wasn’t. Clint was genuinely happy to start his day and Bucky hoped it would continue.

Clint grabbed her bag out of the back and slung it over his shoulder. “I have a whole day planned if you are game,” Clint informed her, walking back up to the house with her.

“A whole day planned?” Natasha asked. “James,” she greeted, kissing his cheek.

“Natalia,” James replied, kissing her cheek as well.

“Oh hey, you owe me a question still,” Clint said.

“I do not. You asked your question last night.”

“That doesn’t count! It wasn’t personal,” Clint exclaimed, kicking his shoes off before climbing the stairs.

“Is this a new game?” Natasha questioned.

“Long story,” Bucky muttered. “What’s the question?”

“Are you two a couple?” Clint asked. “I mean, you guys hang out an awful lot. The kiss the cheek thing. And that fond look on your faces sometimes.”

Natasha stared at him before she started laughing. Bucky looked at her. “Excuse you, but why do you think that’s funny?” Bucky asked. Natasha just continued to laugh before Bucky huffed, exasperated already. “No, Clint, we are not dating. We used to date, a long time ago.”

“You’re lying,” Clint said, tossing Natasha’s bag onto her bed.

“He’s not,” Natasha answered. “Bucky’s gay, which was just as shocking to me as it is for you currently.” Bucky rolled his eyes at her and nudged her with his arm. 

Clint stared at them and Bucky tried to not squirm under his observant gaze. “Alright, I believe you,” he said. “So! If you want, I asked Bucky if we can do a hike. We looked it up, there is a trail nearby.” Bucky was thankful for the change of topic. He was going to have to figure out how to pay Natasha back for that moment.

“I thought we were supposed to stay around the house,” Natasha commented with a mischievous grin, looking directly at Bucky.

“Yeah, I decided fuck that,” Bucky answered. “Join the dark side, Nat. They have excited Clints there,” he added, waving a hand at the overly excited blond.

Natasha seemed to consider it, looking between Clint and Bucky. “Alright. You are sure you want to go for a hike?”

“Yep. Got boots ready and everything,” Clint bragged, slipping past them, brushing against Bucky this time instead of touching Natasha. “We can pack food! Eat outside. It’s supposed to be mostly sunny out.”

“We can go on a hike then. But! I am tying your hair up and out of your face because otherwise you’ll complain that your neck is sweaty.” Clint gave Natasha a grin as if he knew what she was referring too, and Natasha nearly shoved him up the stairs to see her room. 

The whole house felt a little bit lighter as Bucky heard the two bickering as if they hadn’t lost any time at all. He caught the moment Natasha nudged Clint with her feet for him to slouch more, going on about him being too tall. Clint complied and grabbed her ankles as she brushed his hair with her fingers to put it up. There was only a little bit of nerves over the contact it seemed. When Clint caught Bucky staring, he smiled brightly for a moment before he went back to focusing on the floorboards in front of him.

Clint’s enthusiasm lasted through the morning and into the afternoon. They each had a backpack on with supplies and food as they sent out on a longer hike than Bucky had intended. They made it maybe half way through before Clint started whining about how hiking was the worst, even though he was grinning like an idiot every time; Bucky had a sneaky suspicion as to why, and he shot Clint a grin. They decided to take a break then and devour their food.

Clint found the sunniest patch he could after they ate and laid in it, a serene smile plastered on his face. Even Natasha looked more at peace than Bucky had seen her in a long time. She watched Clint fondly from her spot as she nibbled on her dessert.

_ Is this a new normal _ she signed to Bucky.

_ No. This is new. He gets happy but not like this _ Bucky signed back. Now that he was thinking about it, it did make him a little wary of what Clint may be covering up. It didn’t seem like one of Clint’s normal masks he hid behind when he was stressed, this seemed more genuine than that. Bucky knew it wouldn’t last long, so he wasn’t going to make a fuss out of it.

_ Do you think you should tell him about your two _ Natasha asked after a few moments of quiet.

_ He is starting to remember us. He asked if we lived together. I said yes _ . Bucky was positive Clint knew more. Clint had begun with small touches again, even though he himself still didn’t seem to like being touched as much. The previous night it seemed like he was on the verge of asking something personal, asking something that seemed to scare him or make him uncomfortable, but Clint stopped himself before he could let it get there. Bucky knew he had to wait for Clint’s timing.

“You are doing a good job,” Natasha said softly, reaching over to run her hand along his shoulder. Bucky gave her a small smile before he looked back out at Clint.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “We should get going if we hope to have a good dinner tonight.” He got up. “Alright, lazy bones, let’s go.”

“Carry me.”

“Hell no,” Bucky said, picking up his leg and shaking it. “Come on, Clint.” Clint looked at him before he pouted and Bucky swallowed. “You are seriously going to make me carry you, aren’t you?”

“My legs hurt,” Clint whined. “Too much walking.”

“You’re impossible,” Bucky muttered. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Caver,” Natasha teased, grabbing the backpacks.

“Don’t be jealous,” Clint said, rolling over and pushing himself up. “That and I think-” 

Clint stopped, laser focusing into the woods, scanning it for what drew his attention. Bucky and Natasha both had heard it too. Natasha slowly lowered Clint’s bag before she tossed Bucky’s his way. Bucky opened his bag and pulled out his gun, watching Natasha do the same. Clint slowly made it to his feet and backed up closer to the group.

The first gunshot startled each of them, Clint ducking down and covering his head. Before Bucky could yell out a command to either of them, they were being surrounded. He took a few deep breaths before he glanced at Natasha. They both knew what their plan was- eliminate as many hostiles as they could, no questions asked. The problem was focusing on that while also keeping an eye on Clint, where he was at times, who was near him. 

Bucky took out one guard near Clint that managed to put a hand on him and Clint flinched at the body as it collapsed. He was freezing and there wasn’t anything Bucky could do about that except hope he got his wits about him. In the moments he was distracted, he hoped Clint would take off running, find a spot to bunker down until they could retrieve him. However, every time he caught sight of Clint he was being cornered in, fighting off the people closest to him.

“Shit.” Bucky snapped his attention to Natasha just then. “Bucky, they have-”

Bucky hissed when he felt something pierce his neck and flung the man off of him. He pushed through the blurriness as long as he could, taking out more people and aiming away from Clint, too worried about hurting him in the process. It felt like an eternity before his knees hit the ground and his world became too dark to keep focusing.

_ I failed _ he thought before he gave way.

Waking up while not being tied down was an unexpected surprise. He kept himself calm, tried to work out what he could while appearing to be asleep. He felt a rain drop splatter on his nose before he looked up at the rapidly darkening sky, raindrops coming down randomly, and he knew it was only a matter of time before it was a downpour. Every muscle in him felt weak as he tried to sit up more, but an arm wrapped around him tighter.

_ Clint! _ Bucky turned his head enough to see the outline of his face, his eyes focused straight ahead, dark bags under his eyes. Bucky tried to move again, but Clint tightened again. “No,” he growled.

“You’re bleeding,” Bucky mumbled, his tongue feeling thick and numb.

“Not my blood,” Clint answered and Bucky felt a chill settling in. He looked back out and surveyed the opening before his stomach rolled. “Don’t throw up on Natasha,” he scolded. Bucky hadn’t even noticed her pulled up against Clint’s other side.

“We have to-”

“I called Steve. He is sending people to us. We stay put,” Clint snapped. “They shot her phone, but not yours. I handled it.”

Bucky relaxed a little, sinking back into Clint more comfortably while Clint let his hold of Bucky go. Clint’s arm was scratched and cut to hell it looked, and his pants were nothing more than a muddy, bloody mess, which Bucky assumed meant his shirt was in the same condition. Bucky’s clothes were marked up and it seemed like Natasha’s was the same.

“Clint, did you-”

“I did what I had to,” Clint answered sharply. “They drugged you two or something. They got her a half a mile away before I could retrieve her.” He took a deep breath and Bucky felt the way his body shook before he felt Clint’s head on top of his own. “I did what I had to. I didn’t have a choice,” he said, his voice straining to hold it’s composure. “I know I’m not allowed a weapon but I couldn’t hold them without one.”

“It’s okay, Clint,” Bucky said.

“It’s not okay. It’s not okay,” Clint answered and Bucky felt his heart break a little when Clint sobbed. “I want to go home and-” There was a noise in front of them and Bucky watched Clint’s arm stretch out, aiming Natasha’s gun out. His arm tightened around Bucky protectively. “I’m not going to lose you, Buck. I don’t want to lose this all over again. I can’t.”

“Agent Barton, put the gun away,” a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative called out and a team of five emerged out from the treeline. “Agent Barton, you need to lower the gun.”

“It’s safe, Clint,” Bucky said, reaching up and touching his arm. Clint didn’t seem so sure but lowered it after a minute.

“Throw the gun to your left,” Clint was instructed and Bucky watched as he complied. “STRIKE team Sigma reporting in. We need a massive clean up effort. Two agents down.” The operative walked forward. “We are going to load them into the van and check them over, Agent Barton. I need you to comply.”

Clint’s arm tightened around Bucky once again. “What?” he hissed.

“We may want to avoid the use of that phrase,” Bucky suggested. “Let me stay with Clint.”

“Negative, Agent Barnes. We need everyone to be assessed.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Clint said fiercely. “You can’t make me. I am not leaving him.”

“Call into Fury. He will tell you that Clint has to stay with Natasha or myself. Natasha is out cold,” Bucky tried to reason. “Today has been difficult- if you remove him, touch him, he’s going to react poorly. Please, we just-”

“Agent Barton will be okay on his own with us. But we need you to follow through with these orders so we can get everyone home safely,” the operative explained patiently. “We don’t know if there are any more hostiles in the area, and I am fairly certain neither of you want to end up in another fight if there are.”

“You don’t understand,” Bucky stressed. “Agent Barton had-”

“No,” Clint said, letting go. “I’ll comply. He needs medical. She needs medical. I’ll… I’ll comply. I won’t hurt anyone. You’re right.” Bucky looked back at Clint, his face pulling back to that blank mask Bucky had been so carefully tearing away.

“Thank you for being reasonable, Agent Barton,” the operative said. “Team.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Bucky said as he was hauled up. His legs threatened to give away under him and he put on the brakes so he could look at Clint properly, his hair matted as the rain started coming down heavily. “No one is going to hurt you, Clint.”

“I know,” Clint whispered.

The small unit got Bucky to a waiting vehicle. “Please make sure he doesn’t get hurt,” he requested. “Clint- he’s going to-”

“We know, Agent Barnes,” a woman said with a reassuring smile. “The sooner we get you all back, the sooner everyone can heal and be together. Director Fury will decide what to do with Clinton in the meantime. Agent Romanoff will be sharing this ride with you and two medics. The rest of our team will escort Agent Barton back. I have extensive training on working with PTSD agents. I’ll figure something out. Until then… staying calm is the best way for everyone to feel better.”

Bucky watched as the woman left the vehicle, giving orders to some members of the team. He watched as Natasha was loaded up into the vehicle with him and he pulled her closer to lean on him. As soon as the vehicle was on the move, Bucky felt himself drift back off to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

The storm that was Steven Rogers was on Bucky the moment he woke up, and Bucky wasn’t sure he was going to be able to deal with his pent up anger and anxiety. There were a million questions, and Bucky tried to answer them as calmly as he could with his growing headache.  _ Why were you out there in the first place? How did you three not notice agents following you? Clint is supposed to stay in a contained area, that was the deal. _

Bucky already felt like he failed, he didn’t need Steve pouring salt into the wounds. He couldn’t stop picturing the pain in Clint’s eyes, could still feel the moment he broke down and cried. Bucky was the one that was supposed to keep him safe, and he failed at doing that. He almost completely failed and lost Clint again, lost everyone again.

“Steve,” Bucky said, cutting his friend off from his tirade. Steve stopped and took a deep breath. “Where and how is Clint?” he asked.

“He’s here in the Tower, on the blank floor,” Steve answered. “He’s- fuck, Bucky. The guy won’t talk to any of us. Any time one of us goes on to the floor to talk to him he shies away again. They had to sedate him just to get him cleaned up and make sure he was medically cleared. It’s almost like square one all over again, but at least this time he isn’t attacking anyone. He’s scared to let anyone close.”

Bucky closed his eyes before he rubbed his face. “I know I fucked up. I don’t know if it would have gone better at the house or not. But my number one concern is getting Clint back on track somehow and I don’t know how.”

“Take a few days off,” Steve said. “Tony, Bruce, and myself can handle him. America and Kate were coming into town- they are bringing Lucky. Maybe that will perk him back up.”

Bucky took a deep breath and sighed. “If he asks for me, just let me know.”

“Of course. And I’ll have Tony hook up a feed or whatever science nonsense he does so you can check on him. But try to keep it to a minimum, alright?” Bucky nodded and Steve reached over and hit his arm. “For what it’s worth, Natasha is awake and got the same speech. She said before everything went down, Clint was the happiest she’s seen him in awhile. So you are doing something right.”

The following three days were torture for Bucky. He was allowed back on his floor, but was banned from seeing Clint in person. In a way, it was nice to have a small break, even if it were making him crawl out of his skin. Anything he learned about Clint was through word of mouth or a projection monitor.

The only thing he really learned was that Clint was not handling anything well. He was back on complete shut down mode, and kept a safe distance from anyone. The only person who did manage to get close was Steve, and Clint had fought hard to work him back to the elevator, shove him in before he retreated away. After every encounter it was the same- Clint would pace around the room and shout at nothing to get his frustration out.

Anytime Bucky would catch him asleep, it was only for an hour or two at a time before he would wake up, startled, and the whole process would begin again. Clint’s face was getting pale, he was back to refusing to eat anything other than the protein bars and other items that didn’t require cooking. It was maddening to see all of Bucky’s hard work, Shuri’s and T’Challa’s hard work, erased in a matter of hours.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Bucky said the moment Kate and America walked in with Lucky.

Kate stuck her tongue out at him. “Oh please- America will be with me. We are going to stop in, say hello, and let Clint see his Pizza dog,” she said and Lucky just wagged his tail, not a clue what was being said anymore. Bucky wondered if he could even see anymore. “I cannot imagine a universe where Clint hates dogs. Can you?” she asked America.

“I’ve been to many and no,” America answered. “Look, as long as he doesn’t seem too feisty, we’ll leave Lucky with him for an hour or so, or until he decides to yell at the screen to tell us to come get him, and we’ll see what happens. Nothing to get your boxers in a wade about, Bucko.”

Bucky sighed. “Alright, fine,” he relented.

When America and Kate went up, Bucky sat down on the couch and stared at the screen, Steve taking up the couch space next to him. It took a minute or two before both women popped up on the screen, leading Lucky out. Clint looked up and then looked baffled.

“Hey, Hawkguy,” America greeted.

“America and I are in town for a few days. Thought we’d stop by. And look! We brought Lucky,” Kate said.

She unclipped Lucky from his lead and the dog meandered over to Clint. Clint sat perfectly frozen in his spot, eyeing Lucky. His eyes glanced up at Kate and America again before he directly looked at the camera. Lucky got a good sniff of Clint before the old boy started whimpering, his whole back end shaking from his tail.

“I think he missed you,” American commented, leaning against Kate, an elbow resting on Kate’s shoulder.

Clint hesitated before he reached down and ran his hands over the fur. “Anyway, we have a meeting. You need to watch him for us. As in, sleep on the couch with the dog. You’re a Hawkeye, you can manage that,” Kate said in a flippant way as her and America turned back and entered the elevator. “Clint. You hurt that dog and I’ll hurt you,” she warned before the elevator closed.

Clint sat with his hands in Lucky’s fur for about two minutes before he slipped off the couch, pulling the dog into his lap. Lucky statiscally gave him kisses while Clint held onto him and buried his face in his fur.

“I would never hurt you,” Bucky heard Clint whisper.

“Oh good, he will talk to a dog but not the rest of us,” Steve grumbled.

“Hey, at least he talked,” Bucky said gently, feeling some of his stress melt away as he watched Clint get up. “... Oh no.”

“Of course,” Steve said drily, although he was starting to grin.

Clint picked up his protein bar and flipped it over to the back, reading the ingredients and expertly moving around Lucky’s happy dance to get back to the couch. “Not pizza… but I think it will do,” Clint said. He broke off the bar into smaller pieces, feeding some to Lucky, taking bites in between. “I know they are watching me. They are probably going to tell me how dogs aren’t supposed to have protein bars, that it’s not healthy. Well, I say fuck em. You’re old. You deserve all the snacks.” Lucky woofed in agreement and Clint cracked a smile. “You think you can help me out, Lucky? Huh?” he asked, laying back on the couch and dragging Lucky up as carefully as he could. “Think you can sleep with me?” Lucky groaned and settled his head on Clint’s chest. “Yeah- I bet you can. You’re the best boy.” Clint tilted his head up to kiss the dog’s nose before he laid back. “You and me, pal. One last time, alright?” he asked.

“What the hell does he mean by that?” Steve asked.

The phrase made Bucky nervous as well. “I… have no idea. But I don’t like it either.” Bucky was on his feet and on his way to the elevator.

“Bucky, stop,” Clint said. Bucky looked over at the screen. “I just meant that after this I don’t want to drag Lucky into this. It’s not fair to him. We’re going to take a nap now. So you and whoever is there can just relax. Watch me sleep or whatever. Not that that’s creepy or anything.”

“... you married the weirdest guy,” Steve commented before he started to smile.

“Yeah, I really did,” Bucky answered before walking back to the couch and collapsing.

It took all of three minutes for Clint’s breathing to even out, and he was asleep. For the first time in several days, Clint had managed to sleep for several hours, and not once did he look unrestful. Bucky made a mental note to check into a weighted blanket for Clint, just in case that would help him somehow feel less anxious again. America and Kate joined up in the screening room and Kate looked more than pleased with herself.

“Oh come on!” Kate protested. “You and Lucky had cuddle time.”

Bucky knew this was going to happen, Clint had practically said it before he went to sleep with Lucky on his chest. The moment Kate and America walked onto the floor after Clint slept like a rock for five hours, Clint had stated that he didn’t want to keep Lucky with him. Kate looked dumbfounded and started off gently trying to coax him into keeping Lucky, but Clint held his ground, unwavered. That was almost ten minutes ago. Now Kate was upset, America seemed awkward as she watched the fight, and Clint was handling it better than Bucky would have thought.

“I don’t want Lucky staying with me,” Clint said calmly and Bucky could see his nerves building. “I don’t want this.”

“He’s your dog.”

“He’s your dog now,” Clint answered. “Pretend I’m still dead and take him with you. Please.”

“Uh, no, I am not going to pretend you are dead,” Kate replied. “What the hell, Clint. He missed you. And apparently you were talking to him. What gives?”

“It hurts.” Kate frowned and Bucky watched the monitor, frowning too. “It hurts I left him for so damn long, it hurts I missed time with him, and it hurts that I can’t take care of him properly. I was shaky at it before, and I’d be even worse at it now. Hell, I’m not even allowed to take him for a walk. So no. I don’t want him near me.”

“We can walk him,” America said. “And I am sure the team-”

“I said no,” Clint said firmly, backing away. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is. I already hate myself enough, I don’t need to add to the list.” Bucky closed his eyes at the words and the silence that fell. He knew Clint had self-esteem issues, but he rarely voiced them especially after the whole HYDRA incident. Bucky wanted to be proud that Clint was coming around and voicing his feelings, but at the same time he wanted to sit in there and try to convince Clint that there was absolutely nothing Clint should hate himself for, that none of what happened was in his control. 

“Oh, my God, Barton, you are being so dumb,” Kate said in frustration. “Why not enjoy this while you can? Enjoy us here while you can?” Clint was silent and Bucky knew this was the end of his conversation with Kate and America. “Ugh, you know what? This is the worst part about you. Always has been.” Clint didn’t offer anything to Kate, staying quiet. “Fine, we’re leaving,” she said. “Come on, Lucky.”

Lucky gave one last look at Clint before he followed. America lingered a second longer even as Kate told her they were leaving. Clint leveled his look to America next. “I understand,” America said. “She does too. We all do. Some day, maybe things can be different,” she said before she turned and walked. Clint waited until the elevator made a noise that it was heading out before he locked himself in the bathroom.

Bucky turned the monitor off and scrubbed his face. Four days was all he could take before he left to find Tony. It didn’t take much, with the AIs in the Tower, Bucky was directed to a lab, where Peter was helping Tony develop something. Bucky saw blueprints and that was about it.

“Got a second?” Bucky asked.

“What’s up, robo-arm?” Tony asked, pushing the virtual screen away.

“I need to get Clint out of here,” Bucky said. “He isn’t handling things well. And I know I screwed up the last time, and it won’t happen again.”

“I actually agree,” Tony said. “Take five, Peter,” he added, nudging him. Peter gave Bucky a short and sweet smile before he walked past him and headed out. “I was talking to Steve, who doesn’t agree, and I think you both should use the summer house for the next month.”

“The summer house,” Bucky repeated.

“Sure. Let birdbrain see the ocean, smell the salty air,” Tony answered, grabbing a stool and pulling it over to sit. “It has a swimming pool. It’s secure and somewhat remote. You both could go out to dinner sometime.”

“Leaving the house is what got us this last time,” Bucky pointed out.

“I’ll put up better sensors in the area,” Tony answered. “Look, Clint isn’t going to get better by being here where we are all going to mother hen him and bother him. He doesn’t even want his dog near him. He needs time to trust himself and realize that he’s working on his own accord, not because of someone else. He’s like you- needs constant reminders he’s a good person. He’s not going to get that with us nagging.”

“Fury won’t go for it,” Bucky said with a sigh.

“I already got the permission slip,” Natasha said, walking in.

“Red and I might have worked behind the scenes,” Tony said. “Look, there are going to be S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in the area, undercover, so warn him of that. And the occasional sentinel metal scrap suit to make sure you both are safe.”

“And no monitor this time according to Fury, because clearly you two never listen to him anyway,” Natasha said, holding the papers out to Bucky. “The rules.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said, taking them. “I owe you both.”

“Get birdbrain back healthy and smiling again,” Tony said, pulling his work back up. “FRIDAY, let the kid know he can come back now.”

“Nice way to refer to your son,” Natasha teased, walking with Bucky.

“He’s used to it, so is the other one,” Tony said fondly.

Natasha stood next to Bucky as the elevator closed. “You have to know this wasn’t your fault, what happened. I was just as careless as you were. We’re both equally to blame for stressing Clint out again.”

“You going up with me?”

“May as well. Kate already talked my ear off,” Natasha said. “Now she is talking America’s ear off.” Bucky snorted and crossed his arms. “You have to admit, Clint did a good job, even if he feels like it was a failure on his end. Nine by himself.”

“We are  _ not _ telling him that,” Bucky stressed.

“Maybe.” Natasha gave that quirky, mischievous smile and Bucky pretended to be mad about it. “Saddle up. Because I bet he rebels.”

Natasha wasn’t wrong. Clint wasn’t amused by the new plan. He asked why they were leaving, where they were going, why they weren’t staying. He said it wasn’t safe, said he wasn’t safe, and said it was a bad idea. Bucky had thought about caving until he saw Clint shy away from Natasha and her hand, something he hadn’t done for over a month. 

Bucky had to double down, and when Clint threw the “choices” stance back in Bucky’s face, Bucky informed him that sometimes he made the worst choices out of everyone alive. Clint looked thrown for a moment and Bucky was trying to work out what the look was for before Clint smoothed his emotions back over to a perfectly blank mask.

By the time they left, Clint had gone back to not talking again. Bucky could see the muscle strain, watched the way Clint had tried to dig his nails into his palms. While Bucky felt like the worst husband by putting his foot down, he knew it was for the best.

Natasha gave him a sympathetic looked as they parted ways. Even Natasha couldn’t reassure Bucky that this would be a good idea. Maybe it was too soon- maybe Clint could work himself out in the Tower better than Bucky had anticipated. However, every day he had watched Clint slip further away from everyone, watched him eat like he had for the first month, and he didn’t care how bad of a plan it was- he was going to have to try it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops! I forgot to update that at it's normal schedule. =X Busy, fun day. Anyway, I hope you all have a great day! Enjoy!


	17. Chapter 17

“See, it’s not that bad,” Bucky said after an incredibly long drive. He had watched Clint closer this time, picked up on his cues that he needed out to stretch and move. “And hey, you can even smell the ocean.” Clint still looked skeptical. “Just give this a shot, Clint. You hate it after a week, we’ll drive back.”

Clint was just as quiet for this car ride as he had been the last. He would at least acknowledge Bucky since he had left his hearing aids in. Bucky suspected that Clint was back to leaving them in full time again. He pulled into the drive and looked at the house.

“More modest than what I expected from Tony,” Bucky admitted. He looked over at Clint. “Grab your bags and let’s strip the house, alright? Then we’ll do a perimeter check and check out the beach. You’ll want to wear those sandals for the ocean.”

Clint nodded and got out, following through the instructions he was given. Both Bucky and Clint ditched their bags in the entryway and did a sweep of the house. Clint was much slower at it than Bucky was, although Bucky had caught him looking out the window for a minute or two.

“Clear,” Bucky declared.

“Can I have the bedroom that faces the ocean?” Clint asked.

“Uh, there are three of them, which one?” Bucky asked. Clint walked and stood in the doorway. “Yeah, I don’t see why not. Hey, your own bathroom this time.” Clint nodded and squeezed past to grab his bags and Bucky groaned before he followed Clint, picking a room on the next floor down, taking his time to pack away his clothes.

“Bucky?”

“Hm?” 

Clint was silent and Bucky looked over at him. He looked nervous again, standing awkwardly in his space. Clint shuffled back a step and looked down. Bucky sat on his bed and watched Clint as he seemed to be working out what he wanted. Clint glanced up at him, and Bucky could see himself preparing for the let down.

“I… I want to start training again,” he said. “Something physical. I want to put my frustrations back into something that has a purpose. And I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“Let me check to see what I can do with some training equipment,” Bucky said. “We’ll go out tonight for dinner, and we’ll swing by somewhere to pick you up a swimsuit.” He stood up and smiled. “Want to go stick your toes in the ocean?”

Clint had looked at the ocean for all of two breaths before he had decided there was no chance he was getting in the water that night. Bucky had tried to tempt him in- he had waded out to his knees almost, said it was warm, but Clint only shook his head. He backed away any time the water would brush against his toes, glaring down at it as if he was remembering something he could associate with the ocean that might have been bad. He had promised to try again the next day.

While it was still one of Clint’s bad days, it wasn’t as bad as it had been. He was still quiet and reserved, and he wasn’t impressed at sitting down outside to eat with people all around, but he didn’t voice his displeasure either. He was even less thrilled in the store and there were too many swimsuit options to choose from. Bucky decided to take a look around the rest of the shop, pick up small trinkets for the team, even though most of them were for Morgan.

“Can we go?” Clint asked, holding three swimsuits behind his shoulder. He looked antsy and Bucky knew he hated being around people he didn’t know. It raised the  _ I’m unsafe _ factor tenfold it seemed. It was something new Bucky was going to have to consider.

“What did you pick?” Bucky asked.

Clint pulled them out and showed them off and Bucky lost it, he was laughing so hard. The first pair wasn’t anything unusual- they were a pair of red trunks with white on the sides, a classic look even. The second pair was bright green with pineapples all over them. And the third pair- the third pair was the smallest swimsuit he had ever seen for men, a classic speedo style, and even then Clint had never worn them. The third ones had an American flag print on them.

“Oh my God, Steve and Tony are going to  _ die _ ,” Bucky declared. “I will have to take a picture. I love them. You picked well.”

“You are laughing at them,” Clint said slowly.

“Because this is about the best Barton thing ever,” Bucky said, wrapping an arm around Clint’s shoulders, forcing him to hunch over as they walked. “Do you remember how I told you about the photoshoot you did in Avengers underwear?”

“Not… really,” Clint admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I forget stuff too. It’s better now, but sometimes it still slips through,” Bucky answered, trying to keep him at least on the edge of happiness. “Remind me and I’ll tell it to you on the ride back to the house.”

They bought their items and left, and Bucky couldn’t erase the grin on his face even if he tried. Clint still looked confused and Bucky launched himself into Clint’s underwear photo shoot story again. However, this time he noticed that Clint had fallen asleep, leaned up against the side of the car. Bucky had to do a double take before his smile softened.

He contemplated sleeping in the car that night for however long Clint would stay out. He looked peaceful, the second time since the incident. Bucky slipped out of the car, trying to be as quiet as possible as he got to Clint’s side. He nudged him once, trying to get him to wake up, but Clint opened his eyes for one moment, murmured something that Bucky wasn’t able to catch, and had fallen back asleep.

Bucky was careful when pulling Clint out of the car, trying to not knock his head. Clint had stayed asleep and Bucky carried him up the stairs and into the house with ease. He was able to get him in bed without Clint stirring at all. Adjusting the pillows and pulling the blanket up, Bucky watched Clint for a minute as he slept on. He took his hearing aids out, hoping he wasn’t overstepping too many boundaries that would upset Clint, and set them down on the nightstand. He chanced a kiss to the top of his head and murmured a soft I love you, something Clint would have never heard even with his hearing aids in before he left the room

That night, Bucky spent a lot of time on the beach, his ass in the sand and his toes in the water. He texted Natasha that the day hadn’t been a complete failure and that soon enough he would be sharing a picture that would have Steve and Tony in a fit. Natasha promised that if Bucky gave her a heads up and they coordinated, she would record their reaction for him.

When it was nearing his normal sleeping time, Bucky started a small load of laundry, making sure Clint’s swimsuits were clean for the next day. He checked the perimeter one last time, spotting one of Tony’s guards nearby before he laid down in his bed.

No matter what tomorrow brought- Bucky was fairly confident he could handle it.


	18. Chapter 18

Bucky was wrong- he couldn’t handle it. The last four days had been bad days for Clint. He refused to leave his room except to eat, and wouldn’t even consider talking about whatever had been going through his mind. For the first time in a long time, Clint hadn’t put his hearing aids in for days at a time.

The worst of it was the looks he would cast Bucky’s way. It was like he didn’t seem to trust him anymore, and looked wary whenever Bucky came close. That small fraction of Clint that had managed to peek through the first day they arrived at the vacation home was lost again. When he wasn’t looking at Bucky as if he were going to hurt him, Clint looked blank, his eyes fixed on the floor, the ceiling, never really looking at anything in particular.

On the fifth day of near silence Bucky was starting to feel like he needed to call Natasha for some back up. Clint had come out for breakfast, in the same clothes he had worn for three days now, and he watched Bucky while he made his way to his seat. He was still missing his hearing aids, and it didn’t seem like he even cared.

By lunch the rain had started coming in waves, and Bucky was getting discouraged. If Clint wasn’t willing to talk, Bucky had wanted to at least run on the beach, get some form of exercise in. Maybe even a swim in the pool would have helped. And while he knew he could swim in the rain, something about it just didn’t seem right to him.

He was trying to give Clint all the time he needed to fix himself, but it was starting to come to a breaking point for Bucky. He was exhausted from having to tiptoe, from the mental game of trying to figure out what Clint was going through when he wasn’t talking. Some days it was easier than others, but the last several days were taking a toll on Bucky.

Bucky just wanted his husband back. He wanted back the guy who told the world’s worst jokes and pickup lines. He wanted back the beautiful disaster that needed three cups of coffee most of the time before he would even consider himself human for the day. Even on his worst days when Clint was struggling with his inner demons and it seemed like a losing battle, Bucky would take them all over again if it meant he knew that someday things would be okay again.

Clint slipped by Bucky and headed for the outside. Bucky watched him go, and contemplated stopping him, asking him what was going on. Clint stopped at the door, took a deep breath, and headed out. He was still in his clothing and he rolled up his pants and sat down, legs in the pool. It was something new, something that gave him enough of a spark to think that maybe Clint was coming back out the other side of this again.

And then the rain came back through. Clint stayed outside, his head bowed. Bucky thought about going out there, dragging him inside, but it was rain. What could a little rain do? Then a few minutes passed on to an hour, and that hour was turning into two, and Bucky was starting to get anxious. The rain was coming down harder now, Clint’s clothes were soaked.

Bucky knew what he should do. He should be at the very least dragging Clint inside the house and making him change into warm, dry clothes. He should force him to take a shower because he wasn’t positive that had happened in the last three or four days. Maybe he could make Clint sit down and do a puzzle or something, anything, to get him out of his head for a little bit.

Bucky was forced into action when he saw a flash of lightning in the distance. He ran outside into the pouring rain and pulled at Clint’s shoulders, dragging him backwards from the pool. Clint snapped out of it and looked up at Bucky before his eyes started to water and he started to cry. Bucky was frozen in the moment for a minute before a rumbling reminded him why he was getting soaked.

Tugging him to his feet, Bucky forced them inside and closed the door. Clint was repeating a string of apologies, sounding more desperate as he went. Bucky hugged him as tightly as he could and felt Clint wrap his arms around him. It was the longest Bucky had been able to touch Clint outside of carrying him into the house. After a moment, Bucky moved his hands to hold Clint’s face, angling it up so Clint could look at him.

“We need to get dressed, change clothes,” Bucky said slowly before he pulled his hands away to sign it to Clint.

Clint nodded and walked, stripping off his clothes as he went. Bucky stared at three new scars on his back, ones he hadn’t seen before HYDRA, and he felt the anger starting to set in. Clint disappeared up the stairs to his room while Bucky went to his. He tried to remind himself that being angry was only going to make everything so much worse, and that was something he couldn’t afford at the moment.

Wearing his pajamas for the night, Bucky walked upstairs and stopped at Clint’s room. Clint was looking at his suitcase, still not unpacked, and was still only in his boxers. He shivered and his hands hovered over the suitcase, his fingers twitching. Bucky did his best not to startle Clint in that moment, stomping his feet.

Clint turned around and started crying again. Bucky rushed forward and held him again, keeping him upright when his legs had started to buckle under him. Bucky managed to clear a small space at the edge of the bed for Clint to sit while he grabbed hearing aids. He stared at the old purple BTEs, little white arrows etched into the sides before he held them out for Clint.

“Clint, what’s wrong? What happened?” Bucky asked, kneeling down so he could get a good look at his face. “I can’t help if you won’t tell me.”

Clint swallowed back whatever words he was going to say and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. “I can’t- I don’t want to-” he said weakly. “I don’t want to hurt us.”

“Know what?” Bucky asked. Clint squeezed his eyes tighter and Bucky held his face between his hands. “Clint, you’re actually scaring me this time. You have to tell me.”

Clint opened his eyes and his lips quivered before he bit them. “What are we?” he asked. Bucky felt the air escape his lungs and he held on silently. “Bucky, you have to tell me. You need to be honest. What are we?” he begged.

Bucky licked his lips and figured this was it. He couldn’t hide it anymore, and he didn’t want to. “We were married,” Bucky answered. “One year before you were taken, we were married. We had been together for four years total.”

Clint let out a heartbreaking sob and lurched forward, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and crying out. Bucky held him tightly as he sobbed. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hold back his own tears now. He thought he would be ready for this, thought he had mentally prepared himself, but holding Clint in his lap as he broke down was something he could never truly prepare for.

Bucky wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it felt like hours. Slowly, Clint calmed down, regulated his breathing a little. While he was still crying, he pulled himself away from Bucky and leaned his back up against the side of his bed. Bucky moved, sitting next to him without touching and sniffled, rubbing his face. They sat in silence for longer than what Bucky tended to be comfortable with, but for a change, it didn’t matter.

Clint picked his head up and looked at Bucky, his face still splotchy and his eyes red. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked hoarsely.

“I didn’t want you to think you had to live up to that,” Bucky answered. “I didn’t want you to think that you had to be with me because we were married. I wanted you to remember it on your own and decide if this is what you wanted.” Clint gave him a wobbly smile, brushing back the tears with his knuckles and he hiccuped. “How long have you been sitting on this?”

“Three.”

“Three what? Hours? Days?” Bucky questioned further, pressing.

“Weeks.” Bucky stared at Clint, his jaw falling open. “I wasn’t sure what I was remembering at first. And then the attack and I just…” Clint looked back down. “I just want to get this right, Bucky. I don’t want to screw any of this up.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not going to screw anything up. You haven’t screwed anything up,” Bucky said, trying to reassure him. “This takes time. And you’ve got it.”

Clint leaned until his shoulder was pressed against Bucky’s. He took a deep breath and held it for a bit before he relaxed. When Clint’s head knocked into Bucky’s, Bucky reached over carefully and put a hand on Clint’s.

“What did you remember that made you this emotional today?” Bucky asked softly.

Clint didn’t pulled back, didn’t so much as flinch. “We were laying in bed together- you were acting like you were asleep even though I had very obviously woken you up. I… I think I called you an asshole? There was something between there, between me trying to wake you up and calling you an asshole because I- Bucky-”

“Its okay,” Bucky murmured. He turned a little, his nose pressing into Clint’s forehead. “It was our one year anniversary- the marriage one. The day I lost you.”

“Ah,” Clint replied. “I was… and you were too. And then I saw the rings and I just-” Bucky wasn’t sure what Clint was trying to say there but he wasn’t going to push, not when they got so far already that night. Clint sighed and sunk a little to get himself comfortable again. “It was… a lot. It confirmed the small pieces and I-” Clint shook his head and let the words go left unspoken. In a small way, Bucky knew what he wanted to say while Clint couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Bucky let them sit there for a while before he looked at the clock. “We should go to bed,” Bucky murmured. He knew Clint had to be tired by now, and if nothing else, emotionally exhausted.

“Don’t leave me,” Clint whispered.

“I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep,” Bucky promised. “But if you forget this when you wake up and I’m in here with you? Tomorrow will be a bad day.”

Clint sighed and got up. “How did you manage this for so long?” he asked, grabbing his suitcase and moved it to a chair. “The memories, not telling me, not letting on-”

“Because there is a very short list of things I wouldn’t do for you, Clint,” Bucky answered, getting up. Clint grabbed his water bottle and took a long drink before he laid down, not looking any less assured for the night. Bucky sat down and reached his hand out, hesitating before he touched Clint’s head. Clint turned into the touch and Bucky smiled, pushing back the hair from his face. “Lets see how the next few days go. And if they are good days, I’ll tell you everything you could ever want to know about us.”

“What if I forget?” Clint asked, Bucky watching his eyes start to flutter close before he would force them back open.

“We’ll work on that if it gets there,” Bucky promised.

It was several minutes before Bucky knew Clint was asleep enough that he could move. He got up slowly and backed out of the room, turning the lights off. He walked down the hall and down the stairs before he pulled his phone out.

“Hey Nat?” he greeted. “Do me a favor. Overnight my laptop, the wedding rings and the books? Clint remembers us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter links back to what was a one shot titled "One Day at a Time" I wrote for Mandatory funday at the WS Clint prompt, which prompted this whole fic.
> 
> Remember how Bucky had that nightmare back in Chapter 2? Clint got to see the real side of that- he got to see glimpses of what that day was before they headed out. Clint is freaking out because nothing seems to add up, and he's scared of what that implies, hence his absolute panic in this chapter. He's always felt something with Bucky, starting way back in chapter nine, he just hasn't had any tangible to hang onto until somewhere between chapter 13 and 14. 
> 
> But this is where everything gets a little better, a little sweeter. I promised it would have a happy ending- just took a hell of a time getting there. =) Thanks for sticking through it this long!


	19. Chapter 19

The next few days were odd. Clint was just as quiet as he had been, but he was also more affectionate in little ways. He didn’t avoid touching Bucky or brushing against him as they walked. There were a few times he even purposely walked over and leaned up against him, usually while Bucky was cooking or doing the dishes. Bucky caught him a few times looking over, staring at him as if he had discovered something incredible. 

Clint started branching out again, trying some new things. Two days after their talk, Clint had walked out after his afternoon nap in his pineapple swimsuit and quietly asked if they could go out to the beach. It had taken him a half hour before he finally would let the water brush against his toes, and another half hour before he took Bucky’s outstretched hand and waded in further. Bucky wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t like it when Clint scrambled to hold on tightly when a large wave knocked into them, pushing them back a half step.

That night, they ate outside on the boardwalk leading down to the ocean, and watched as the skies turned to dusky pinks and purples until it was finally dark. Bucky retrieved his package and set it out, writing a note on it for Clint- telling him whenever he was ready, they could go through the box that Natasha had sent.

Day three they had to spend the entire day inside. Clint had caught a cold it seemed, coughing and sniffling and looking thoroughly miserable. Bucky thought he had noticed it starting the day before, but Clint wasn’t complaining about anything. Bucky forced him to stay in bed, bringing him soup for lunch and sitting with him. Dinner they had grilled cheese and soup. That night, Clint refused to stay in his room. He wrapped himself in a blanket and leaned against Bucky as they watched movies all night with the subtitles on. That was another night Bucky had to carry him off to bed, not that he minded.

For three days, Bucky watched Clint opening back up slowly. He wasn’t talkative as he worked things out, but he was involved. He was back to smiling again, the dark bags under his eyes diminishing a little as he seemed to get more sleep. He had started trading out his hearing aids, trying out the new styles, his old, the mission comms. Bucky had sent Tony a text, and he was pretty sure that keyboard smashing on the phone meant good things.

Day four Bucky couldn’t drag Clint inside the house for nothing. He had walked out in the morning in the tiny Americana speedos with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he ate breakfast. That was the first day that they ran together on the beach; it was the first day that Clint had wanted to work out together at all. Bucky knew he had to be doing something on his own- he wasn’t looking soft like he should have if he weren’t working out at all.

Clint grinned at the camera when Bucky sent a picture, warning Natasha first and waiting until she was in position to send the photo out. Bucky turned his phone off for the rest of the day, vowing to watch the reaction video later at night. Part of Bucky wished everyone was there to enjoy this weather, this side of Clint. Selfishly, he was glad no one else was there.

They had to eat on the beach for lunch and dinner that day. Bucky wasn’t a fan of just how much time he was going to have to take cleaning the sand out of his metal plating, but watching Clint grin, hearing him laugh- that was going to make it worth it. After dinner, Clint took one more dip into the ocean and refused to come back. Before it could get too dark, Bucky waded out with him.

“Come on, Hawkguy. I’m not sure which of us is more burnt to a crisp,” Bucky commented knowing full well Clint couldn’t hear him. Bucky took his hand and squeezed it, giving it a small tug. “We’re going to be miserable-”

Clint turned and kissed him, Bucky tasting the ocean on his lips. His hands firmly grasped Bucky’s hips to pull him in closer and when a wave crashed Clint into him, Bucky gasped. Clint gave him a sheepish smile before he kissed Bucky’s forehead and tugged his hand, ready to go inside. Bucky tugged back and kissed Clint again when he turned back around.

Once they were back to the patio, Clint grabbed a towel, drying himself off. He grabbed his hearing aids, turning them over in his hands before he put them in, fiddling with them. He turned around and smiled something soft and sweet. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Bucky greeted.

“Can we go through the box?” Clint requested. “I think I’m ready.”

“Yeah, we can go through the box,” Bucky answered. “We should check that video first. The one I was telling you about.”

“Tomorrow,” Clint said, opening the door to go inside his muscles tightening and he shivered at the change. “I am going to go shower, change. I want to see what’s in that box.”

“Yeah, alright. Don’t start without me,” Bucky said, watching Clint climb up to his room and close the door.

Bucky took his time in the shower, trying to keep his mind calm, ease himself down. It helped that there was so much sand  _ everywhere _ . By the time he was out and dressed, Clint was sitting cross legged on the couch, and Clint had made hot chocolate instead of coffee that night. Bucky grabbed himself a mug and a knife and walked over. Clint looked up and smiled. For the first time in a long time, Bucky could easily see his freckles again, gracing his nose and splattered across his cheeks. He never realized just how much he missed seeing them this clearly.

“You sure you are ready for this? It’s four years of a lot,” Bucky warned, opening the box up.

“Get on with it, Barnes,” Clint said, cradling his mug.

Bucky snorted and pulled out a photobook and handed it over. Clint set his mug down and took it, his fingers running over the two photos on the front. “You had this made on our one year anniversary,” Bucky said, sitting back down. “I honestly expected you to forget the date.”

They went through the first photobook, discussing every picture they had come across. Some of them Clint remembered, telling Bucky about that day, what bits he could remember. There were pictures from Avenger press releases, and from vacations. There were a few from Clint’s broken leg which he got when he, naturally, jumped off a building and landed exactly right. Bucky was grinning as he was bent over, Clint was leaning forward and playing tic-tac-toe on his cast.

Pictures of them shooting together, sparring together, and doing 5ks. They were covered from head to toe in mud, in paint dust- towards the end was one of Bucky’s favorite pictures. Clint’s face was red, and he had the biggest smile on his face as Bucky kissed his cheek. It was the first time Bucky had done anything of the sort in public- and where was a better place to do it than at NYC’s Pride Parade?

“We had this photo hanging up, didn’t we?” Clint asked tiredly, his finger tapping the photo.

“Yeah, we got a large copy of it and hung it,” Bucky answered. “We also included it on the engagement announcement if I remember correctly.” He made the move to get up and Clint pulled him back. Bucky smiled and glanced over at him. “Long day?” he asked.

“Long life,” Clint muttered before he kicked his feet up onto the table. “We can go slow, right?” he asked.

“Everything is on your time,” Bucky promised, kissing his cheek. Clint’s face turned red and he buried himself into Bucky’s arm. “You want to call it or want to keep going?”

“Maybe… something smaller than a book,” Clint said. “Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Are those rings in there?”

“I can check,” Bucky said. He gently moved Clint so he could set the book down and dig into the box. “Here- this was our announcement we sent out,” he said, passing it back. “And here’s a few loose photos Natasha found.” Clint took them and was looking through them while Bucky searched the box. He grabbed a small bag and sat down, Clint leaning back into him. “And here are our rings. Yours got a little… scorched it looks,” Bucky said, passing it over.

Clint took it and turned it over in his hands. His eyes started to tear up a little and he turned his face into Bucky’s arm. Bucky was quiet for Clint, before he sniffed. “I remember when they took it. I didn’t think… I thought they would have gotten rid of it.”

“I was surprised when Natasha found a box of belongings,” Bucky said. “It was a long box. Had your ring, your bow, which really wasn’t in working order so I asked Tony to take it and make a replacement. Your old gear was in there.”

Clint turned his hips, tossing his legs over Bucky while holding onto his arm. He played with the ring before he looked up. “Was I good at it?” he asked.

“At being a husband?” Bucky asked. Clint nodded hesitantly and Bucky dropped a hand to Clint’s shin. “You were the best husband out there for me. Best everything out there for me.”

“You’re a sappy guy, aren’t you?” Clint asked.

“I'm sappy? Just wait until we get to the proposal you made up,” Bucky taunted. “You just hid it better most of the time. But you are just as terrible as I am.” He rubbed Clint’s leg and looked down. “You were adamant that Morgan had to be the flower girl. She could barely walk. You know what that turned into?” he asked. “Morgan  _ and _ Lucky were both flower girls. You had a good time training Lucky to walk with Morgan. For what it’s worth, Lucky did a very good job.”

Clint frowned a little and picked at Bucky’s shirt. He smiled after a minute and glanced up. “One more book?” he asked.

“You sure?” Bucky asked. Clint nodded and untangled himself from Bucky. Bucky got up and grabbed another book and sat down before he looked at Clint’s hand, his nose wrinkled as he put the ring on. “Bet it feels weird, huh?” he asked.

“When did you stop wearing yours?” Clint asked as he nodded.

“When we went to retrieve you,” Bucky answered as Clint made himself comfortable again, this time pulling a blanket around them. “As I said, I didn’t want you to think you had to live up to what you were. I wanted to make sure you knew you had choices.”

“I think I made my choice a long time before I actually knew what we were,” Clint answered. “Year two?” he asked.

“Year two,” Bucky agreed.

Clint participated less this time around, mostly looking at the photos. Bucky couldn’t tell if he was becoming tired, or if he couldn’t remember the moments as much as he could with their first year. However, Clint had a soft, sleepy smile on his face as they went through the photos. Bucky reached his arm around Clint and rubbed his back lightly as they went through the photos.

“You did this a lot,” Clint whispered. Bucky’s fingers stopped and he looked over. “When I was sick, or hurt. You would let me cuddle up and you’d rub my back and everything trying to get me to sleep.”

“Yeah, well, someone had to look after you,” Bucky answered before he closed the book. “Come on, Clint. Let’s get you to bed. We’ll go through these again when you feel like you’re ready.”

“Going to carry me?” Clint asked.

Bucky chuckled and tossed the book down onto the table. “You’re a little shit,” he said, shifting himself and Clint to that he could stand and pick him up at the same time. Clint gasped and wrapped his arms around Bucky, eyes wide. “Oh please, you weigh nothing,” Bucky said, walking.

“That is… ridiculously attractive,” Clint muttered.

“Not the first time you’ve said that,” Bucky laughed, walking up the stairs. “Trust me, you found ways to get back at me.” Bucky grinned when he walked up to the bed. “Can I just drop you?” Clint grinned and loosened his hold around Bucky and Bucky gave him a little toss so he would bounce on the middle of the bed. Clint laughed after he let out a small shriek and rolled onto his side. “You are such a dork.”

Clint sat up and awarded Bucky with a smile he hadn’t seen outside of photos in soon long. “You’re the one who threw me! If I beg, will you do it again?”

Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes. “Did you catch your second wind of something?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Nah- but it’s good to see you happy,” Clint answered, using his feet and legs to kick his blanket down and then move it back up. “Thank you… for all of this,” he said once he got comfortable.

“Yeah, well, ‘til death do us part was part of the whole vow thing,” Bucky ribbed. “Although we did write our own. Maybe when we get to the wedding album, we can watch the videos.”

“I think I’d like that.”


	20. Chapter 20

When Bucky woke up the next morning he felt more relieved and relaxed than he had in a long time. The last week alone had been a wild ride, ranging in emotions. But last night alone had filled him with so much hope, Bucky was surprised he wasn’t floating from happiness. The image of Clint putting the wedding band on almost brought tears to Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky stared at the ceiling and enjoyed the silence until he heard Clint chuckle. Bucky smiled and rolled over, reaching for his phone before he noticed it was missing. He frowned and sat up, looking outside. It had to be close to six or seven. He got out of bed and crept out of his room and spotted Clint sitting at the kitchen island. He looked up and smiled at Bucky.

“I have to go, Bucky just woke up and looks confused,” Clint said. “I’ll talk to you later.” Clint hung up the call and put the phone down. “Mornin’.”

“Good morning,” Bucky greeted, shuffling over to grab a mug of coffee. “It’s… early. Who are you talking to?”

“Well.. I started by calling Kate,” Clint answered. “I woke up at about four, couldn’t sleep. And you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you. So I grabbed your phone and I called her first. I wanted to apologize. Then she yelled at me, asking if I knew what time it was.” Bucky nodded and sat down at the island with Clint. “And then I called Steve, who answered like he was about to lose his shit. I think he thought something bad was happening again, especially when he heard my voice. And I just got off the phone with Natasha.”

“You have had a busy morning,” Bucky commented. “Can I make us breakfast today? Anyone else you want to call?”

“Breakfast, yes. Calling… not really, maybe later,” Clint said, sliding the phone over to Bucky. “And I did a google search- there is a gym not too far from here. I think we should do it. Neither of us have worked out properly in a while. And you feed me too much food.”

“That definitely sounds like you,” Bucky said, leaning over and kissing his temple. Clint shied away. “Sorry.”

“No. It’s fine. It’s just…” Clint looked like he was struggling to come up with what he wanted to say. Instead, he turned his face and kissed Bucky’s cheek, Clint’s face turning red. Bucky smiled and got up, looking in the fridge. “I had a thought. And I don’t want you to get upset by it.”

“I will do my best,” Bucky answered.

“You said I was gone for awhile, right?” Clint asked. Bucky nodded and pulled out eggs and sausage. “Why did you wait?”

“Two years isn’t enough time to get over you, Clint,” Bucky answered.

“But, I mean, no one?”

“No one.” Bucky paused and drummed his fingers on the counter. “Clint, you have no idea how much guilt I felt over the whole thing. I was the one who planned the take down in the first place, I walked us into what became a trap. I was the reason we all lost you, why  _ I _ lost you. If I hadn’t-” He knew he needed to pull it back in so he took a deep breath.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Clint said softly and Bucky looked over as he smiled a little. “I don’t hold it against you. Anyone really. So don’t feel guilty about all that.”

“Not that simple, hun,” Bucky said before grabbing two shallow frying pans and turning the burners on. “There’s no one else out there for me, Clint. There was only ever you. It took me two years to go through your things, organize the closet you deemed yours. It took me just as long to repaint the walls from purple to grey. Although I think if we go back, I want one wall to be purple. Maybe the one I hung your belongings on.”

“There’s no if about it, Buck, we have to go back at some point.” Bucky observed Clint’s face, but he didn’t seem sad about it. “We’re Avengers. Well, you’re an Avenger. And while I appreciate all the time in the world being spent to make sure I’m okay, that I can heal and handle this- we have to go back. It’s what we do.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Bucky answered. “We could retire, move out in the country and enjoy life.”

“We’ll always be targets,” Clint said. Bucky swallowed and nodded. “Just because we retire doesn’t mean it will all be peaceful.” Clint picked up Bucky’s phone. “Is that what you want though? Do you want to retire? Move, just us?”

Bucky wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted. He had been so focused on finding Clint and trying to get him on solid ground, he didn’t think about what came next. He knew Clint was right- even if they retired, made it official, people would still come after them. But the thought of never having to put himself and Clint through hell again brought him peace thinking about it.

“Bucky?” Bucky looked up at Clint. “You don’t have to decide today. Or even in the next week or two. But… whatever you are game for, I think I am game for. I want to make up for lost time.” Bucky smiled and looked down, trying to hold the tears back. “Want to talk about the feeling?”

“You being sweet- you have to stop or else I’ll burn our food,” Bucky said, trying to grumble about it. “Change of topic. The gym. I’ll call and see if we can rent the space out.”

“Nah, don’t ruin it for other people,” Clint said. “They do have a mat area, we can try sparring. Maybe we should make sure we can rent that out for an hour every few days or something. Other than that…”

“There will be a crowd, sunshine,” Bucky said, trying to focus on the eggs. “Can you make the toast?” Clint got up and walked around the kitchen. “Once people know where we are and that we are working out, people are going to flock.”

“Just make sure I don’t hurt anyone,” Clint said automatically. “Make sure I don’t fail, alright?”

“That’s the funny thing about us, Clint,” Bucky said, turning to look at him. Clint looked over, confused and his eyebrows pulled close. “We always try to make sure neither of us fail.” 

Clint’s confusion turned into a soft happiness as he turned away, shouting “sap” at Bucky playfully. That’s when the war of who was sappier began. Bucky pointed out that Clint nearly made him cry over retiring and spending time together, which Clint argued was because  _ Bucky _ was a sap. Clint declared himself emotionless and struggled to keep his face neutral, though he failed miserably every time.

It was like having him back again. Bucky wanted to clean the main floor from the sand so he turned music on and Clint was dancing his way through the songs, doing more dancing than cleaning as he was in charge of doing the laundry. He involved Bucky at one point, the two of them spinning around the room, laughing and grinning like idiots.

They took their fight to the gym after Bucky placed a call and arranged for them to have mat time. Bucky insisted they stretched properly, which Clint moaned and groaned about while doing it; Bucky not so secretly loved to watch Clint stretch, watch his flexibility. Clint, however, caught on and called him out on it and Bucky felt his ears on fire. Clint had the audacity to wink at that, which did not help matters.

Sparring was different now than it had been before. Clint seemed unsure of himself at first, like he was struggling to get through the motions. More than once, Bucky went easy on him when he caught the look of confusion written all across his face. It went on for a half hour before Clint laid on the mat, frustrated.

“Talk to me about it,” Bucky said, sitting down next to him.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Clint muttered. “I don’t feel like I’m doing it right.”

“You are thinking too much.”

“No. It’s… before I know I had a main fighting style-”

“Yeah, a mess and dirty,” Bucky taunted.

Clint glared at him for a second before he sighed. “Yeah, that. It was fluid though. And now- now I feel like if I try to lean that way-”

“HYDRA,” Bucky said. “They retrained you the way they wanted you to be trained. You’re afraid of getting hurt if you fight the way you want to fight.”

“I don’t particularly want to hurt you, either,” Clint added, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. “Fuck,” he groaned, planting his palms firmly on his eyebrows. “I thought I was ready for this but that list pops back in my mind, and you were the first one, right on top. You, Natasha, Steve, Tony,” Clint began before going through a few more names, his voice starting to shake.

“Clint, honey, stop,” Bucky said gently and Clint took in a shaky breath and let it go. “We can do this one of two ways. We can stop, wait a few weeks, and try it again. Or we can keep going and try to push through it until you feel like it feels natural again.”

“Push through,” Clint said before he sat up. “I don’t want to take the easy way out.”

“That’s my husband!” Bucky declared before he stood up, pulling Clint to his feet. “And you aren’t going to hurt me. So don’t worry about that part, alright? You, however, are going to have a shiner,” he said as his lips started to curl up, touching Clint’s hip.

“Yeah, you’re kind of a dick,” Clint muttered. “Hey, think we can stay out for lunch today?” he asked.

“Anything you want,” Bucky answered. 

There had been a small crowd that gathered when they had been sparring, and that crowd seemed to linger, though not as close when they had stopped. Clint grabbed his things before he looked at Bucky. Bucky smiled and held a hand out, Clint accepting it without a thought and he bumped shoulders with Bucky as they walked.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Always.”

They spent the rest of their day out in public. Clint was still wary of it all, but he was better than he had been their first time out. Bucky asked that they pick where they sat in the restaurant, and Clint had found the spot he felt the most comfortable in. After that, they walked from shop to shop, buying odds and ends. They got stopped occasionally by a fan who asked for a picture. Clint offered to hold the phone out to make them all fit. After each one, he would press up against Bucky every time, finding a way to ground himself, and he continued on.

When they had finally made it home, Clint wandered down to the ocean. They had their dinner out there on top of a large beach blanket before they laid back and watched the sky change over to dark. Bucky’s left hand was holding Clint’s right, and his right arm was tucked under his head. Clint was rubbing his chest where Bucky had accidentally hit him a little too hard when Clint froze in the middle of sparring, his eyes searching the stars.

“Can we try something new tonight?” Clint asked.

“What’s that?”

“Sleep with me,” Clint said before he looked over with a nervous smile. “Clothes required. But stay with me through the night.”

Bucky nodded and Clint dropped Bucky’s hand and rolled onto his stomach, tucking his arms under his head. “I want to start seeing people again. I miss them. I remember so much more now and I just-” he closed his eyes. “I want to start giving Stark hell again about his hearing aids being shit. And Steve about… well, everything, really.” Bucky chuckled and rolled onto his stomach as well, mimicking Clint’s pose. “Natasha and her hair. Hell, Thor and  _ his _ hair.”

“Excuse you, but my hair is better,” Bucky quipped.

“Everything about you is better,” Clint said nonchalantly, but to Bucky it was everything. “I miss my dog. I want my dog back… if Kate is willin’ to share again.”

“Are you saying you are ready to leave the beach and go back to the city?” Bucky asked.

“Not just yet, but maybe in a week or two,” Clint answered. “There’s somewhere I want to check out in a few days when the weather is supposed to be better. If you’ll let me drive.”

“A surprise huh?” Bucky asked.

“I haven’t taken you on a proper date in awhile- I think it might be time to change that,” Clint said, leaning over to kiss him.

They packed up their things shortly after and headed inside, taking their showers and getting ready for bed. Clint was hanging back awkwardly from his bed for a few minutes. Bucky insisted they didn’t have to do this, but Clint was adamant. Bucky caved first, climbing in bed and making himself comfortable. He hoped if he treated it as if it weren’t a big deal, maybe Clint would ease himself into it. Clint finally climbed in shortly after and made himself comfortable.

It wasn’t long before he rolled over and curled around Bucky, his eyes searching Bucky’s as he did so, like he was waiting for something to be wrong about it. Bucky shifted them so that his arm was under Clint’s head, his hand rubbing his side. When Clint settled in like they had done so many times before, Bucky wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve this, just like he hadn’t been sure before.

Neither of them seemed to make an attempt at sleeping at first. Bucky was content lying there, being able to glance over and see the mess of blond hair that he had missed for so long. He missed the weight of Clint pinned against him, his legs tangled with Bucky’s; and while Clint hadn’t fully managed that part of it yet, one leg had made a small attempt. Clint was staring at Bucky’s shirt before his hands started drawing patterns into his chest and ribs. Bucky could just barely see the sleepy look settling in Clint’s eyes as they tracked his fingers, mesmerized.

“It feels right,” Clint had softly. “This feels right.” He angled his head to look up at Bucky. “Thank you for being patient.”

“Thank you for not backing down,” Bucky answered. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. You had a long day.”

Clint huffed out a dramatic sigh before he pressed his nose into Bucky’s side. “It really wasn’t that long,” he mumbled. He glanced up and started to smile. “It was a good day. Confusing at times, but it was good. This is good.”

“Only good?” Bucky teased, faking a pout.

“A little more than good,” Clint conceded, reaching up to touch Bucky’s face. Clint’s fingers trailed a path along his jaw, his eyes focused on what he was doing. Bucky made every attempt not to do anything that might have scared Clint off from his thoughts. Then he got an awkward smile on his face and he let his hand fall to Bucky’s chest.

“Just say it,” Bucky said with a snort. “You hate the beard.”

“I really,  _ really _ hate the beard, babe,” Clint said before his face turned pink. “Uh-”

“We’re going with babe, huh?” Bucky teased. He rolled himself over, Clint laying flat as Bucky hovered above him. “I know you hate the beard. You’ve always hated the beard.”

“If you like it-”

“I’m indifferent,” Bucky promised. “I’ll even shave it tomorrow. How does that sound?”

Clint took a deep breath then nodded. “Shame to hide a good jawline,” he said in a bit of a squeak that made Bucky laugh. Clint gasped then hit his arm. “Don’t  _ laugh _ at me.”

“You squeaked!” Bucky said. “You squeaked and-”

Clint leaned up and kissed him. All the laughing stopped for a moment as Clint’s hand found its way to Bucky’s jawline again, sliding back until he was holding the back of his neck. As quickly as it came, it lasted just as long before Clint pulled himself from Bucky’s lips and his forehead pressed against Bucky’s.

“Thank you,” Clint whispered.

“Always.”

Clint leaned back and took his hearing aids out, tossing them onto the table before he pulled at Bucky. Obliging, Bucky laid back down, his arm wrapping around Clint as he found his way back tucked against Bucky, his knee over one of Bucky’s legs as he settled into a comfortable position. 

Bucky stayed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. It didn’t take too long for Clint’s breathing to fall into a pattern Bucky was all too familiar with. When the light snoring finally came Bucky closed his eyes- he missed this, and he was never going to complain about Clint being a clingy snoring menace in bed again. He was never going to complain about Clint being a blanket thief, or a pillow thief because having this was leagues better than not.

It was closing in on three years since Bucky’s life had turned to hell, and he was finally climbing out the other side.


	21. Chapter 21

“So where are we going exactly?” Bucky asked.

It had been two weeks of almost sheer bliss. It wasn’t that Clint didn’t have moments where his mood would slip into something darker, or that he didn’t have a bad day slipped into the mix. However, Clint would always come back to him by the time night fell. They had started a new nightly routine where they would watch the sun set and lay out under the stairs before they would move inside. Every night Clint got braver, taking less time to crawl into bed and under the covers with Bucky. This last week had started a new, old tradition of Clint rolling on top of Bucky and kissing him until his brain went fuzzy and his heart warm.

They continued with training every other day, and spent even longer in the gym when Clint was having a bad day. They would stretch, use the equipment and spar. He began freezing less during the sparring, the glint in his eyes coming back as he found a way to temporarily disarm Bucky. Slowly, Bucky started gearing up the intensity just so Clint wouldn’t win every round. Unlike the first day, where the crowds had Clint on edge, Clint barely seemed to notice them until it was time to leave. Even then, he would take Bucky’s hand, give them a wobbly smile, a head nod, and continue on his way. 

Today though- today was going to be a good day. Clint had woken up early, his fingers brushing Bucky’s hair back as Bucky started to wake up. He kissed him until his brain felt like it had short circuited again before Clint told him they had plans. He helped with breakfast and the clean up before they both went for a run together. Now, they were just preparing to leave for whatever Clint had made plans for.

“It’s a surprise, Barnes,” Clint said, trying to set up the GPS. “You need to be surprised. Consider this me wooing you all day.” Bucky couldn’t help but to laugh at that, muttering wooing under his breath. Clint set the GPS aside and grabbed a hair tie, pulling his hair up as much as he could before pulling an Avengers themed headband on. Bucky started to smirk. “I don’t want to hear it. This is the most magical belonging I have.”

“Oh? That is? Glad I bought you a wedding ring,” Bucky taunted. Clint hummed happily, flipping Bucky his wedding ring finger.

Bucky watched Clint as he checked over a bag he packed with snacks. He was wearing compression shorts and had Bucky wear the same thing. With a blush on his cheeks, Clint had made a comment that morning about Bucky’s thighs that had Bucky in stitches. “And I am supposed to take photos today. Kate said I had to. Said it’s something we do. Which I think I remember us doing… but that might be the photobooks talking. But since we have photobooks I guess we do it often enough.”

“We took pictures a lot. Both of us are suckers for pictures,” Bucky said. “Pepper made us social media accounts and would force us to sometimes use them. But generally we keep them all to ourselves.”

Clint nodded then set his hands on the table, clearly thinking. “I am forgetting- oh! Spare hearing aids. Buck, can you grab me a spare?” he asked. “Which do I even have in?” he asked, pulling them out. “Americana. Can you grab me the purple ones with the white arrows?”

“You have a favorite now,” Bucky teased as he walked. 

“Keep it up and I’ll have Tony make me a pair that says I heart Bucky and then you’re in trouble,” Clint threatened.

Bucky grabbed his hearing aids from inside the drawer and walked back out. “I’ll pretend to be mad about those,” he said, kissing Clint’s cheek just so he could watch the red spread. “I think I have a new favorite thing too.”

“Stop,” Clint laughed, shoving Bucky’s face away with his hand. Bucky leaned into it a little. “You ready then?” he asked.

“Terrified. Let’s go.”

Clint turned the radio up and they hit the road. Bucky watched him as he sang and danced a little in his seat, clearly in a good mood. Clint would flash him one of his million dollar smiles and Bucky’s stomach swooped every time. They had stopped once for a quick lunch before Clint finally pulled into a parking lot.

“... spelunking,” Bucky said slowly. “You want to go spelunking.”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Clint said excitedly. “Hence the tight clothes. And Kate said we’d look cute in hard hats.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky answered. “You asked Kate for ideas about our date?”

“No,” Clint answered slowly. “I asked Natasha. She said this was one of the things on our couple to-do list that we never did. Mostly because I’m too tall and you are thick. And I said screw it, we are doing it. I mean… if you still want to.”

“We are so going to get stuck,” Bucky laughed, getting out of the car and walking.

“Yeah we are, but we’re going to have fun doing it,” Clint answered. “We will have a guide with us at all times. And because this puts me on edge, I asked Tony for a favor and he’s got some of his doombots here.”

“Tony doesn’t have doombots, that’s Dr. Doom,” Bucky said. “Tony has sentinels.”

“They are kinda really the same thing,” Clint argued. “One I’m allowed to shoot, the other Tony will be pissy if I shoot. Oh hey, after this, I found a range. We’re going shooting. Before you say it- I got permission to hold a weapon as long as you are there.”

“You really put a lot of time and energy into this,” Bucky commented.

“I had to. As I said, you deserve a proper date,” Clint replied, before he turned and kissed Bucky briefly. “You are in charge of pictures today I decided.”

“Anything for you,” Bucky replied.

“Sap.”

“That you are, and you love me,” Bucky said with a grin.

Spelunking wasn’t as bad as Bucky thought it would be. Clint and Bucky donned the hard hats, and of course they had pictures of it. Their guide helped them through the harder sections where he swore they would both fit through. Clint’s challenge was staying lower to the ground, his height a disadvantage through most of the cave. Never once did he complain, and he looked around the openings they came to with such wonder and awe that Bucky knew this was going to have to happen more often for the both of them.

Clint then drove them to get ice cream and for Bucky to patch up his hands. Clint kept apologizing profusely for getting them all cut up on the rocks in the cave, and Bucky kept reassuring him that everything was fine. Clint cracked a joke about how this was way too familiar and Bucky laughed and had agreed. They ate their ice cream, Clint snagging bites of Bucky’s occasionally as he ate his own.

Going to the range almost made Bucky’s heart stop. Clint insisted that Bucky shoot first, so he did. Any shot Clint told him to take he did. He missed this time together- when they could be on the range, cracking jokes and being competitive. Some days they spent hours down there, waiting until the world felt safe again for whoever was having their day.

“Alright, your turn, Hawkeye,” Bucky said. “I want… a heart made of arrows.”

“A heart made of arrows,” Clint repeated, pulling a set of gloves on and gripping them. He glanced at Bucky nervously. “Okay, this is worse than the sparring,” he admitted, shaking his arms out before he grabbed the bow and quiver full of arrows.

“You won’t miss,” Bucky promised. “And if you do, I am telling everybody.”

“I’ll divorce you,” Clint threatened with a weak smile.

“Uh huh.”

Clint stuck his tongue out and grabbed the first arrow and lined up his shot, settling into his stance. With an exhale, Clint let the first arrow loose and Bucky watched it embed into the bottom of the target. Clint shifted the quiver on his back and tugged at the chest guard before he repeated the motions. One after one, Clint slowly fell into the steady rhythm, and Bucky was breathless.

“The tension is weird,” Clint commented, aiming at the ground.

“We’ll have Tony make you a bow, put it back to training pull,” Bucky said. “Your favorite bow got… well, it wasn’t in working condition anymore.”

“I faintly remember that happening,” Clint commented, sounding a little distant. He took a deep breath and raised the bow up, lined up his shot, and took it. “There’s been a lull lately, in the memories coming back.”

“Maybe more will come, maybe they won’t,” Bucky said. “Think you can live with it if they don’t?”

“If they don’t, I won’t actually remember our wedding, or most of that year of being married,” Clint answered. “I’ll never remember the proposal outside of photos or videos. I won’t remember some things about Natasha.” He pulled another arrow out, looking frustrated. “I would have no choice but to live with that, right?”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky sighed. “I don’t remember some of my life either. I know it’s… startling, to know something is there, right on the edge, but never being able to grasp it.” He watched Clint release, watched the arrow embed perfectly. “If you are worried that Natasha or I will care about that, you are worrying for nothing. Having you back- that’s the greatest gift either of us could have.”

“It’s not that. It's that I want to remember those things, the important things,” Clint insisted. “I can’t remember Steve and Tony bringing Morgan home, but I remember meeting Peter for the first time. I can’t remember meeting Bruce and Thor for the first time either, but I can remember working with them, laughing. I hate not having the full picture.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky said, unsure what else to say to that.

Clint finished his design and lowered his bow. He rotated his shoulders and looked back with a grin. “Still got it,” he said.

“I had no doubts.” Bucky stood up and walked over, grabbing Clint’s outstretched hand and pulling him in, laughing. “How did it feel?”

“Incredible,” Clint answered. “It felt right.” Clint tucked his head against Bucky’s neck. “I kinda missed this I guess, but I was worried about not being up to speed,” he said, his lips brushing against Bucky’s neck. Clint took a step back and smiled. “Should we grab a snack on the way back home?” he asked.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Bucky said, checking them out.

Bucky drove them home. Clint was drumming his hands against his thighs, singing along with the music. Bucky could tell he was getting tired, more distracted as he stopped singing occasionally just to stare straight ahead. Bucky changed his grip on the wheel and reached over, resting a hand on Clint’s thigh. Clint looked at it then up at Bucky.

“Hey Bucky?”

“Whats up?”

“Can you pull over for a minute? It’s kinda important,” Clint said nervously. 

Bucky nodded and found a good turn off before he put the car in park. Clint was quiet for a few minutes, not making a move, so Bucky turned the car off and waited. Clint licked his lips and nodded before he turned to look at Bucky.

“I…” Clint forced himself to stop and looked frustrated.

“You don’t have to tell me whatever it is if you don’t want,” Bucky told him. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah, I know, but I want to,” Clint said. He unbuckled and angled himself so he could tuck a leg under him, his back facing the passenger side window. “I love you.” Bucky opened his mouth then closed it and he was pretty sure this was how he was going to become undone all over again. “I love you… so much more than I could ever show you or tell you.”

“I love you too,” Bucky said back, his voice catching.

“Awww, don’t cry,” Clint said. “I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“Happy tears, Barton,” Bucky said, running his hands under his eyes. “Thank you for telling me to pull over before you laid that one on me. Come here.”

Clint smiled and leaned forward, his hands bracing him on the center console. Bucky grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer so he could kiss him. Clint was on the move, climbing over the console and swearing, awkwardly trying to fit. He growled when he didn’t and Bucky reached over, pulling a lever so his seat would move back. Clint whacked his head against the window and hissed, rubbing it before he laughed and kissed Bucky.

“Clint?”

“Hm?”

“Can you say it again?” Bucky asked, slipping his hand behind Clint’s head, squeezing the base of his neck.

“I said it twice,” Clint pointed out.

“Third time’s a charm,” Bucky suggested.

“Making up for lost time,” Clint said. “I love you.” He rubbed the back of his head and got a dopey smile. “Wanna hear it in German? Spanish? Uh…. what else? French? I’m pretty sure I know it in French. Oh! Russian! I know it in Russian. ASL.”

Bucky laughed and sat up a little. “Come on, let’s go home. I’m starving. Want to eat out tonight?”

“I actually know what I want to make for dinner, if that’s okay,” Clint answered, climbing back over to his seat and collapsing. “Cars are small.” He looked over with that goofy grin again. “You’re so small.”

“You’re just tall,” Bucky grumbled, turning the car on. He pretended to be mad when Clint made a few short jokes, but it was hard to maintain glare when Clint was grinning broadly.

The rest of the way home felt almost like a dream to Bucky. He had been waiting, wanting to hear those words again for so long. He chanced a few glances Clint’s way, tucked up against the door, halfway asleep as he watched the landscape. He glanced Bucky’s way once and gave him a tired smile before he looked back outside.

The moment of peace was gone when they pulled back into the drive of the beach house and all the lights were on. Bucky frowned as he contemplated what to do. He knew he had turned the lights off. He unbuckled and tossed Clint the keys. “Stay here,” he said. “You hear anything from inside, you take off, got it?”

“Not going to happen,” Clint answered, getting out before Bucky could stop him.

“Clint!” Bucky followed him and caught his arm. “You can’t just march in there! Do you have any idea how-”

“Bucky, can we just go inside?” Clint asked, reaching for the handle.

“No!” Bucky grabbed his hand and pulled him away. “We need to-” He stopped when the sound of a string quartet started to play. He stared at the door before he turned his attention to Clint. “What… did you do?”

Clint smiled softly and pulled away from Bucky’s hands before he took them in his own. “Maybe you should go inside and we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

Bucky nodded and was in motion when Clint squeezed his hand. Bucky took a deep breath and walked in, the song filling the air and Bucky felt breathless. He walked down the hall, people coming into view the closer he got to the kitchen. Steve was standing off to one side with Tony, their arms around each other, Steve holding Morgan and whispering something in her ear. Peter stood near them and had a large smile on his face. Natasha was standing opposite of Steve, his smile just a little on the large side compared to normal. Bruce stood next to her and nodded his head. Thor and Jane. Kate and America.

“Clint, what is this?”

“You kinda gotta go up there and stand with everyone,” Clint said, encouraging him forward again after his steps had come to a stop.

Bucky followed through, his eyes scanning everyone around them. There was Wanda and Pietro, Vision. Lucky had a bandana on and was snoozing in a bed Kate must have brought. Sam was standing by Steve, smiling knowingly. T’Challa, Okeye, Shuri, and Ramonda stood towards the back, all smiles. Shuri wiggled her fingers as she waved to them.

“What did you do?” Bucky whispered.

“I told you, it’s my day to woo you,” Clint whispered back. 

Clint stopped and Bucky came to a stop with him. Tony poked Morgan, who pressed a button on the phone and the music stopped. Bucky wasn’t sure if his heart could thud any harder than it currently was as he looked at Clint. Clint rubbed the back of Bucky’s hands. He mouthed  _ relax _ , but Bucky wasn’t sure he could.

“James Buchanan Barnes… erm…. Is it Barnes still? Is it Barton?” Clint asked.

“You both kept your own last names,” Steve said.

“Right. Okay,” Clint said with a lopsided grin. “James Buchanan Barnes. I might not remember everything from before our world turned upside-down. I can’t remember our wedding day to save my life, no matter how many times I sneak down here to watch the videos while you’re asleep. I can’t remember the honeymoon, I can’t even remember the proposal. But there is one thing I know with one hundred percent certainty and it’s that I love you. I think there was always a part of me that remembered that, even if I didn’t know what to do with it. So… I wanted to create a new memory with you, with them- something I can always remember because no one is taking this away.”

Bucky looked up and blinked back the tears. “The only thing I could think of was a vow renewal. And I’m a few weeks early but it’s close enough to our anniversary, this counts.” Bucky looked down and suppressed a laugh. “So, here it goes.”

Bucky listened to Clint repeat the vows he had said that day four years ago and he couldn’t stop the tears anymore. Clint’s eyes watered and he let go of Bucky’s hands and held his face, brushing the tears away the best he could. “- and there is nothing that is ever going to stop me from coming home to you. I love you, Bucky, more than you will ever know.”

Bucky let go of his breath. “Clint,” he said before he leaned forward.

“No,” Clint said. “You’re turn.”

“I don’t have mine memorized,” Bucky answered. Clint quirked up an eyebrow. “Okay. I… Clinton Francis Barton.” Bucky looked around the room and looked behind him, saw Steve gave him an encouraging smile and a nod. Bucky turned back. “There aren’t many times in life that we get second chances. And there is no way that I am going to waste a second of this time through. I don’t know if I could love you any more than I already do, but I promise that every day, no matter what, I will make sure you know it.”

Clint smiled and bowed his head before he looked back up through his lashes. “Okay, now you can kiss him,” Sam said teasingly from the back.

Clint laughed and Bucky leaned in first, pulling Clint into a kiss. He heard their friends cheering around them. Clint squeezed his hands and pulled back, his face flushed before he laughed, his nose scrunching up.  _ I love you _ Clint signed to Bucky, Bucky signing it back.

That night they ate with the people that had become their family. Clint was still nervous around Peter and Morgan, but he had tried. He flashed a bright smile to Bucky every time he caught his eyes before he dragged back into a conversation.

“Hey Punk,” Bucky greeted when Steve walked his way.

“Hey yourself,” Steve replied, hugging Bucky. They both settled back. Clint was dancing with Wanda, their hands settled on each other as they laughed. “He’s come a long way in a short period of time.” He looked over at Bucky who nodded.

“Yeah, he has.” Bucky took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I’m going to be an Avenger much longer,” he admitted.

Steve knocked his arm into Bucky’s. “You both deserve whatever happiness you can find. If that’s taking the step back, you know I will support you both. No matter what.”

Bucky nodded and turned to look at Steve. “You helped him with all of this?”

“Extremely last minute too,” Steve answered. “Clint called Tony four days ago in a panic because he wanted to surprise you with something good. Tony tried to tell him to wait for your actual anniversary but Clint was very adamant that he needed to do something for you because you’ve been carrying all the weight lately. How the hell were we going to say no to that?” Steve patted his shoulder before Tony called him over.

Bucky shared a dance or two with Clint, enjoying their night. It wasn’t until he saw a tension that wasn’t there all day, a tiredness in his eyes, that Bucky whispered to Natasha to make people disappear. He found out Tony had rented the house next door and everyone except Natasha left for next door. She kissed Clint’s forehead, whispering her goodnight before she took off for a bedroom downstairs.

“One more dance?” Clint asked, holding his hand out.

“One more dance,” Bucky agreed, taking his hand and pulling him close. 

Clint laid his head against Bucky’s shoulder as they shuffled around the floor, listening to their wedding song one last time that night. It was something they had done the night they got married, when they got to their hotel room. Clint had done a little strip tease as he lost the tie and the jacket, holding his hand out that night and asking for one last dance. Just like now, Clint had laid his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“Thank you. For all of this,” Bucky said softly. “Consider me wooed.”

Clint stood up straight. “You deserve a hell of a lot more.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve got exactly what I want,” Bucky promised. “There is nothing in this universe that I could want anymore than this.”

They finished their dance and collected glasses of water before heading off to their room. They took turns showering, Clint going first. Bucky rushed through his routine, towel drying his hair enough to be passable before he walked out. Clint was sitting up in bed still.

“Bucky?” Bucky hummed and looked over. “I think I’m ready to go home now.”

“I think I’m ready for that too,” Bucky admitted.


	22. Chapter 22

“Here.” Bucky looked up from his book and watched as Clint dangled a pair of scissors from his hand. 

Bucky frowned and closed his book. “What… do I need scissors for?”

“My hair. It’s long and I hate it,” Clint answered. “How you can manage long hair, I don’t know. I want it short again.”

“Uh- I don’t know how to cut hair,” Bucky said slowly. “You probably should have asked Natasha to do this for you before she left.”

In fact, everyone had left. They had spent a few days together, and they had been the best days Bucky had experienced in years. They were days filled with their family, cooking together, going swimming and playing out on the beach. They were days filled with laughter, and sharing stories, and maybe too much food and alcohol.

Clint eased himself into being around everyone. The first day after the vow renewal, Clint spent half of his day out with everyone, and the rest of the day he would slip away somewhere quiet. Slowly, he increased his exposure every day, and would step back without Bucky or Natasha making a suggestion. However, he was trying to be involved as much as he could, even if sometimes he laughed and looked at Bucky, signing  _ tell me later _ more than once. Bucky would try to remember the stories so he could give Clint all the inside knowledge he had.

In all the five days they were with their family, Clint only asked Bucky to come with him once. Morgan had gotten too close and clung to Clint and Clint had a moment of sheer panic- he might not have expressed it outside of his head snapping to the side and he looked at Bucky with the most pleading eyes Bucky had ever seen. Tony was the one who caught on first and stepped in. Steve had caught up and Bucky wasn’t sure who was going to win the apology war. Clint and Steve talked about ways to help expose Clint slowly to Mogan. Once Steve had left, Bucky and Clint sat in their bedroom or an hour or two, going over other things quietly.

Every night they would walk down the street, get ice cream, and bring it back to eat on the beach. Morgan would be tucked away and the adults would casually talk about whatever came to mind. Clint leaned up against Bucky, smiling and listening even if he didn’t participate. Bucky would turn his head occasionally to kiss his forehead and make sure he was still alright. Clint would simply smile in response.

They were due back home in a few days. Steve gave Clint a binder full of notes to prepare him for what was to come, saying it could always be altered in case he was struggling to keep up. Even Bucky thought it was excessive, but Clint assured them that he’d be able to handle it. They were trying to enjoy their last few days together before the chaos struck. So far they hadn’t done much- Clint didn’t want to. With Lucky there, Clint altered most of his day around his dog, cooing at the old boy that Clint joked was “just as deaf as I am”. There was one night that storms rolled through and Lucky’s body was shaking, so Clint opted to sleep on the ground with him.

“Okay but I didn’t think about it while Natasha was here,” Clint said. Bucky stared at Clint long enough to make him squirm. “Okay, we both know I wasn’t going to go through that with everyone around. And Natasha left with them so I couldn’t ask.” Bucky went to open his mouth and Clint held a finger up. “Look, it doesn’t have to be perfect but it needs to be cut. So snip snip, Buck.”

“If I say no, is this going to be our whole day’s conversation?”

“You bet your sweet ass it will be,” Clint answered with a dazzling smile. “Only one of us looks good with a man bun and that person is  _ not _ me.” He wiggled the scissors before he pouted. “Babe.”

Bucky sighed and got up. “Kitchen. And we need towels. I’ll…. Youtube it or something.”

Clint let out a cheerful squeal and set the scissors down and raced to grab towels. Bucky snorted and pulled his phone out to look up videos while Clint tossed towels on the floor and draped one over his neck, pulling his hair out of the tiny ponytail, waiting gleefully.

“We might need to get clippers later today to make this look right,” Bucky admitted before he picked up the scissors. “You realize I am about to jack up your hair, right?”

“It’ll make for a great story,” Clint answered, not at all fazed. “Come on! I want short hair. Do it,” Clint begged.

“Okay, okay!”

Bucky took a deep breath before he started to cut away Clint’s hair, trying to crop it short to the best of his abilities without clippers on hand. It was maddening as Bucky tried to make sure everything looked even as the hair fell. For the most part, Clint remained calm after the first few cuts. Bucky had a feeling he was probably digging his nails into his palms to keep himself calm when his body had tensed, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Alright Hawkguy- that’s about the best I can do without clippers,” Bucky said, taking the towel off after he set the scissors down. “We’ll pick some up when we go out for lunch.”

Clint raced from the chair to the bedroom and Bucky followed him at a much slower pace. Clint was still inspecting himself when Bucky arrived, angling his head to get a complete look. He caught Bucky’s eyes in the mirror and wrinkled his nose.

“You made me look like Steve,” he accused.

“No I did-” Bucky couldn’t even finish his sentence. Bucky stared at him before he groaned. “Oh God, that is Steve’s haircut.” 

Clint turned and smirked and grabbed onto Bucky’s shirt to pull him closer. “Does someone have a thing for Stevie and projected it?”

“Clint, I will murder you,” Bucky warned.

“Give me a kiss.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Bucky said, leaning his head back as far as he could. “Oh God, I can’t unsee it! Get away from me.” Bucky held his hand out to keep Clint at bay when he tried to hug Bucky.

And then it happened. Clint got that mischievous grin on his face before he shook out his body and altered his stance. “I’m with you until the end of the line,” he said in such a way that a shiver ran down Bucky’s spine. From the way he held himself, to the tone, Clint mimicked Steve so effortlessly that Bucky wasn't sure if he should be in awe or throw up.

“Stop it.”

“I can do this all day.”

“I sleep with you at night,” Bucky grumbled.

“And now you get to do just that with me while I look like this,” Clint said all too cheerfully. It was hard to even pretend to be mad at him when he looked as radiant as he did at that moment.

“I’m trading you in. This model of you is defective,” Bucky said, waving his hands in the air.

“This is the only model available,” Clint answered. “You are so screwed.”

“We are cutting that hair,” Bucky said sternly. “We are getting clippers. We are dyeing it.”

“Oh man, can we dye my hair purple?” Clint asked, and Bucky turned to leave the room, knowing full well Clint was trailing him. “I bet I would look good with purple hair.”

“We are not dyeing your hair purple,” Bucky said.

“We might not be but I might be,” Clint countered musically.

Despite his teasing, Clint was more than willing to have his hair cut again, this time Bucky looking at old photos of Clint so he could try to replicate his old hair style. Clint hadn’t picked up any hair dye even though he did ask the store clerk if she thought he would look good with purple hair, leaning against the counter. Her face had turned red as she stammered her way into a response, which only fueled Clint’s fire a little more.

“So how does it feel?” Bucky asked after Clint showered to get the stray hairs off.

“It feels like me,” Clint answered with a gentle smile as he rubbed his hair with a towel, coming out from the shower. “I know that made you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ve been sitting on it for awhile now, and I didn’t want to have Nat do it because everyone was here.”

Bucky’s face fell a little. “Clint. You aren’t going to hurt anyone.”

Clint shrugged before he sat down. “It’s a hard habit to break. I feel like… like this has almost been too quick and easy. I’m waiting to be slapped with reality or something.”

Bucky stepped up between his legs and held his face. Clint tried to give him a more confident smile, but it was still marked with nerves. He wanted to tell him that there was no way he would ruin anything, harm anyone. He wanted to tell him there was absolutely nothing to worry about, that it was all fine now. But he knew that Clint worried about the memory gaps still, about how much of himself he was missing. And he knew that when he was new to everything, Steve would tell him all the same things and it didn’t make a lick of difference.

Instead, Bucky rubbed his cheeks and kissed him, hoping he could convey everything he wanted to say in a simple action. “I love you,” Bucky said, not stepping back. “And if that is what you need to feel secure in everything then I support it. But babe- you want to start team training again.”

“Have to pass S.H.I.E.L.D. evals first. Could take months,” Clint answered, reaching up and putting his hands over Bucky’s. “We can start slow. We can talk to everyone, see if we can add people in slowly. You and Natasha. Then add Steve. Keep going until everything feels right again.”

“You already thought about this,” Bucky said slowly.

“I’ve thought about a lot,” Clint admitted. “Like when we get back I want you to show me around for four days before the next step.”

“And what is that?” Bucky asked.

“Don’t get mad when I say it,” Clint forewarned. “I think after those four days we should spend some time apart.” Bucky felt his heart sink and his hands started to drop before Clint squeezed them. “Bucky, we gotta learn to be apart. I have to learn how to be comfortable with myself. Right now, if something makes me feel uneasy, my first action is to come to you. I need to learn to cope on my own. And you need to learn that everything will be fine if I’m not in the same space as you.”

“If that’s what you want,” Bucky answered, though he couldn’t stop himself from feeling miserable about the idea.

“Come on, you know I am right. Don’t make me feel bad about this,” Clint said, sounding more nervous now. “You have put everything on hold for me. Now it’s time for us to get back to normal. That includes knowing we may be split from each other for a few days. Anyway, we’ll still be seeing each other every day. Meals and training. Just… limited. And not together at night.” Clint gave him a small smile and kissed his forehead. “It’s not going to be easy for either of us, babe, but we need to figure ourselves back out if we want to keep moving forward.”

Bucky sighed and nodded. “I know.” Clint smiled and wrapped his arms around Bucky and pulled him just a little closer. “It’s a smart move. The right next step. I guess maybe… I didn’t realize this would come so soon.”

“That being said… we are leaving to go home in a few days,” Clint said with a smile. “How do you feel about a few more walks on the beach, take Lucky with us?”

“I think Lucky would like that,” Bucky answered. “You ready to try walking him around NYC?”

Clint shrugged. “I have to learn to push forward. If it makes me nervous, I’ll make someone go with me.” The doorbell went off and Clint got up. “I ordered food in.”

“When did you do that?” Bucky asked.

“Earlier this morning and had it scheduled. Consider this one last night of wooing,” Clint said with a smile before he walked to get the door. He came back holding a box and a bag, setting them on the counter. “It’s Italian so you wanna help me polish off that bottle of wine Tony left us?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Bucky answered.

Dinner was nice. Clint got Bucky his favorite meal, and Bucky was going to have to remember to text Steve a thank you for helping Clint with that. They talked about the lighter side of things, mostly focusing on Lucky since he ambled his way over. In true Barton fashion he “accidentally” dropped food on the floor for his dog, and Bucky pretended to be mad about it. The first time Clint was startled and looked up. It took him a moment to catch up, grinning like an idiot before he did it again.

“So what is in the box?” Bucky asked.

“Oh this?” Clint asked. “Cake.” He opened the box before he got up and grabbed two forks. Bucky looked at the plain cake, no decorations or writing on it. Clint held a fork out to Bucky before he sat back down and cut off a piece and held it out, the inside pink. “Share?”

“And you call me a sap,” Bucky said, cutting off a piece and holding it out. As soon as the cake hit his tongue his eyes went wide. He recognized the flavor and he was determined not to tear up. “Clint-”

“Strawberry lemonade- just like our wedding cake,” Clint said. “I couldn’t order this in time for the vow renewal, so I asked when I could have it done. And well-” Clint smiled and shrugged. “There is a small part of me that remembers this flavor.”

Bucky swallowed back his emotions about it. “It was before you proposed that we found this little cake shop and you wanted to try everything. So we got an assortment of cupcakes and this was one of the flavors.” Bucky watched as Clint cut off another piece and take a bite. “You wouldn’t tell the others where this bakery was, swore me to secrecy, and we would bring them to family night once a month. So when we got engaged and had to pick out the wedding cake flavor, well, what else were we going to pick?” he asked. “We did have an assortment. Vanilla, chocolate, some other odd flavors. But this was our personal cake flavor.”

“New me approves of old me’s choices,” Clint mused. “Can you tell me something?”

“What’s that?” Bucky asked, taking another bite of cake.

“You brought it up a few weeks back. And back then you didn’t know what your answer was. Or at least you didn’t admit to it,” Clint explained. “But retirement- is that something you want?”

“Why do you ask?” Bucky asked.

Clint sat on the question, twirling his fork. “Because I need to know where you stand I suppose,” he answered. “You are doing a lot of things because I want to do them. I only think it’s fair if we are both open and honest about this.” He smiled a little bit before he took a bite of cake. “And let’s face it, I might get a bit dramatic if I learn how to be an Avenger again only for you to decide a month later you want to retire.”

Bucky laughed and took a bite from the cake. “When this whole thing started, when I first got you back, I wanted nothing more than to retire. Having you back was the only thing that mattered to me. Protecting you from everything was my only goal. Even at the vow renewal, I thought maybe returning and getting back to work would be a mistake. But after spending a few days with everyone, everything being fine and normal- I don’t really know anymore.” He watched Clint spin his fork. “Do you want to retire?”

“No.” Clint set his fork down. “But I was willing to do it if it was what you wanted. I still am. But I’m not sure either of us are fit for one hundred percent civilian life, not yet anyway. I think we both thrive best when we are together and when we are doing what we do best. At least I think that’s how I feel.”

“If we  _ did _ retire, big if- where?” Bucky asked.

“The woods,” Clint answered easily. “I liked being out in the middle of nature at it’s finest. Again with a little creek or something in the back, somewhere to fish next time. And a fireplace- I bet Alpine would love a fireplace.” 

“I bet she would too,” Bucky agreed. “Walk on the beach with Lucky, come back, grab the cake, and eat out there?”

Clint grinned and got up. “It’s like you know me so well,” he answered. He got Lucky’s attention and signed to him about the walk and looked positively gleeful when Lucky got up and trotted over.

In a way, Bucky wasn’t ready to leave all of this behind. He wasn’t ready to share Clint again, or to go back to normal life. At the same time he couldn’t want to see what the future held for them, to see how Clint continued to evolve and push himself. With one look from Clint, that big smile with his hand held out, Bucky knew there was only one real option. So he took Clint’s hand and went on that walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a very busy weekend this weekend (boo T_T) so I decided to post this chapter a day ahead of time. =) I will likely post the final chapter ahead of schedule as well. =) I hope you all have a great weekend! Stay safe out there.


	23. Chapter 23

_ Fifteen months and three days _ . Bucky watched as Clint hung onto Morgan’s legs as she sat on his shoulders, singing loudly with the little girl as they decorated the Christmas tree. Peter was laughing and helping with the tree, joining in on their fun. It was their official Christmas Party Day, which always started out with a big breakfast followed by decorating the Christmas Tree. Clint turned his head so Bucky could get a glance of his profile, Clint’s eyes lit up and animated.

If someone had told Bucky fifteen months ago that this is where he would be, he would have angrily shouted at them, saying that everything takes time. Bucky would have said that Clint was still healing, still trying to learn to trust, but he was getting better. Bucky wouldn’t have predicted for Clint to make major strides in such a short amount of time. He didn’t think that almost every day he would be thrown a bright smile, would have Clint press up against him, kiss him, trust him. He wouldn’t have guessed that Clint would have passed through all of his physicals and evaluations with flying colors, or that he would have taken therapy seriously, even if he was doing it just so he could get back to some kind of normal.

They had moved back into the Tower and Clint had a rather strict schedule through the week. Every morning, Bucky, Clint, and Natasha would start off the day with yoga, or any kind of stretching and meditative exercise. Bucky and Clint would then take Lucky for a walk. Clint would leave with Steve to head to a S.H.I.E.L.D. operation center where Clint would work on things for about five hours before he came home. From there he would participate in the Avengers training session, and would wind up taking showers longer than Bucky had ever known him to take. Clint would then spend two or three hours on the common floor with everyone before he dragged himself up to bed, just so he could repeat the process the next day.

Any day now they would learn if all of Clint’s efforts paid off. S.H.I.E.L.D. was set to determine if Clint was cleared for duty, which had Clint a bundle of nerves. However, while they were waiting Clint was cleared from having to attend all of his different appointments he had. For the first time in months, Bucky felt like maybe they could finally relax back into normal life.

“Someone is having a good time,” Steve commented, stepping up to Bucky.

“He seems to be,” Bucky answered before he turned and took a mug of hot chocolate from Steve. “I can’t tell if he is having more fun or if Morgan is.”

“Hmmm.”

“Sorry we are late,” T’Challa said.

“Peter!” Shuri breezed past everyone else in the room and made a beeline to the tree.

“Hey Shuri,” Peter greeted, a slight blush gracing his face.

Clint stepped to the side to give Shuri a little more room. When she turned on him and hit his arm, Clint let go of one of Morgan’s legs to give Shuri a side hug before he grabbed an ornament and held it out to Shuri, grinning until she took it. Peter must have said something because Shuri started laughing right along with Clint, Peter’s face turning red all over again.

“I still don’t like that,” T’Challa commented.

“Yeah, well, kids will be kids,” Bucky said, shaking his hand. “Glad you could make it.”

“Glad we could be here,” T’Challa said. “Okoye and my mother wanted to be here, however they have previous engagements. My mother did say that you are past due for a visit, along with Clinton.”

“Maybe a few days after Christmas Clint and I will swing by,” Bucky answered. “I promised a stress-free holiday. And with waiting for the S.H.I.E.L.D. results-” Bucky shrugged.

“You are making me sound antisocial,” Clint quipped before he wrapped an arm around Bucky. “Hello, T’Challa. Happy holidays!”

“And same to you, Clinton,” he greeted. “You are looking festive.”

Clint looked down at his sweater before he grinned. “Yeah well- around a lot of Grinchs, someone’s gotta give them some holly jolly. Oooh, hot chocolate. Give me.” Clint stole Bucky’s mug away and took a drink.

“You know, you are really pushing the whole sharing is caring bit,” Bucky said with a grumble. Clint waggled his eyebrows at Bucky. “Maybe a few days after Christmas we should to to Wakanda, pay a visit.”

“I was going to say- it’s been awhile. And! If I remember correctly, someone was supposed to go backpacking with us,” Clint hinted. T’Challa chuckled and gave a small nod. “I was thinking maybe-”

“Clinton!” Shuri called. Clint looked back towards the small group, Peter and Shuri waving him to come closer.

“Duty calls,” Clint said, pressing the mug back into Bucky’s hands before he kissed his cheek. “Mhhh, love you. T’Challa, we’ll have to catch up later.”

“Of course,” T’Challa said. Clint took off, jogging over to Peter and Shuri, putting his arms around them before he leaned in to watch whatever was on Peter’s phone. “How long do you think it will take them to figure out Clinton isn’t their age?” T’Challa mused. 

Bucky snorted and nodded. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

The day progressed smoothly, everyone taking part when they finally made it to the communal floor. They made cookies and decorated them, and made gingerbread houses to display. Lunch was simple, just sandwiches and chips, and a wide array of desserts. There were games and movies, and caroling well into the afternoon.

Clint was dragged around mostly by the three younger people in the room. A few times he gave Bucky a helpless smile as Morgan or Shuri would pull Clint away to participate in something with them. Bucky wasn’t going to pretend like he didn’t enjoy watching Clint be whipped into shape by those three, just like he had been before everything happened. And as much as he loved seeing Clint with Morgan, he was even more happy to see him with Peter and Shuri. Those two, afterall, knew Clint the best and Bucky had a sneaky suspicion that they enjoyed having Clint back more than they would ever admit.

Everyone broke apart around two, taking a three hour break in the day before dinner and the night festivities. Morgan went to Steve and Tony for a nap, which she declared she didn’t need. Peter and Shuri snuck their way to the labs, something T’Challa declared to be exhausting before he left with Natasha. Clint managed to convince the teens that he was in need for some down time so he was able to leave the party with Bucky.

“There’s my favorite boy,” Clint declared, sitting down as Lucky ambled over stiffly. “Oh man, we are going to do- yep! Big stretches!” Clint cheered as Lucky stretched and yawned before he joined him for love and belly scratches. “America and Kate are still coming, aren’t they?”

“They will be here tonight,” Bucky answered. “We have three hours. What do you want to do?”

“Well, I need to finish wrapping presents. As in throwing them in a bag and stuffing tissue in them,” Clint said. Bucky snorted. “Take Lucky for a walk. I think maybe I’ll sleep on the floor with him for an hour if you are okay with that.”

“You can do whatever you want,” Bucky answered. “Why don’t I take Lucky for a walk while you finish wrapping presents?”

“Okay, sure,” Clint said before he stood up. “Can… I give you a present early?” he asked slowly. “You know what? No. I’m giving you this present early. Come here.”

Bucky blinked and patted Lucky’s head on his way back to the bedroom. Clint grabbed something out of a bag and turned, holding it out to display. It was both the most hideous and the best thing Bucky had ever seen. It was a garishly bright purple sweater with the words  _ Sniper Husbands _ written in bold black letters. Along the bottom were little doodles of Clint and Bucky, along with their logos. Worst yet- snowflakes and jingle bells hung everywhere, along with candy canes and stars, little trees. It was truly an ugly Christmas sweater and Bucky loved it.

“That is… truly horrifying,” Bucky commented before he laughed. “Where did you have this made?” Bucky asked, stepping up to touch it.

“There was a local artist on facebook saying he could make ugly christmas sweaters,” Clint answered. “I got in contact and the guy is a huge fan. So…” Clint gave Bucky his before Clint pulled his out. It was a bright red with the same words scrawled in the black lettering, the same drawings. The left arm was Bucky’s metal arm, the star rigged with lights.

“Oh… my God,” Bucky gaped before he pulled Clint into a kiss. Clint laughed and hugged him. “We’re wearing these tonight, right?”

“I sure hope so because everyone’s present this year is this,” Clint said, a mischievous grin spreading on his face.

“No.  _ No _ . You’re kidding?” Bucky asked.

“Steve’s family says super family,” Clint said. “Sam’s says bird bro.” Bucky started laughing. “Natasha’s says spider momma.”

“She is going to kill you,” Bucky commented.

“This is the year to do it, Buck,” Clint said, happily leaning against Bucky, Bucky having to ground himself to take the extra weight. “Who is going to say no to the brainwashed boy’s first real Christmas home? No one. So they are all going to pull those sweaters on in various states of hating me, and the Christmas photo this year? It’s going to be perfect.”

“You are evil,” Bucky pointed out. “Someone is going to call you out on it.”

“I will bet you a week’s worth of chores no one is going to say shit about it,” Clint replied confidently. “They will want to, but not a single one will dare say anything.”

“I am taking that bet,” Bucky said, cupping Clint’s face. “I love you.”

Clint smiled and leaned up to kiss him. “Just remember that when everyone wants to kill me tonight,” he teased. “You ready for the best Christmas Party ever?”

“I’m ready,” Bucky answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have reached the end! Thank you so much for following along with this story and the support. =) Cheers to another long story written around these two. <3 
> 
> If you ever want to talk or reach out, you can find me on Tumblr at hopelessly-me


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